Giving into Grief
by limegreenzebra
Summary: When a mission leads to Sam's death, Jack struggles to find a way to move on. What happens when he gives into his deep grief? What if Sam isn't really dead? Will Jack see her again before it's too late for them both? Sam/Jack. Rated T
1. Chapter 1 Five Words

**This is my first fanfic and I'm very excited about it. My siblings have encouraged me to publish a story and this is one of my recent ideas. I hope you all like it and I thank you in advance for reading it. Review if you feel the need,it will be greatly appreciated. Constructive criticism is welcome.**

**This fic is set anytime in season 7, Daniel is human, Jonas is gone, Sam's a major and there is no Pete. Rated T to be safe. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

Giving into Grief

Chapter 1 Five Words

It was the worst five words in the history of words. They were the heaviest five words I had ever heard and I repeated them over and over again in my head. I hated them with a passion, my blood boiled, my heart pounded, my ears rang in my skull with sharp pain and my eyes threatened to water. I was furious, upset, sad. I could've killed with my bare hands, I wanted to. How does something like this happen? I wondered. The conclusion I came to was it just does. That was the truth, sometimes bad things happen to good people with no explanation. Sometimes death happens without a reason. I was never scared of myself dying but as you grow closer and closer to people you can't help but worry about losing them. Even still I never thought I would feel this way.

When Colonel Reynolds stepped away from the blue puddle and clanked down the noisy ramp, his expression grim, his BDU's dirty from battle, his mouth painted in a line, I knew something terrible had happened but I could never had imagined how much it would affect me. Reynolds stared straight at me before opening his mouth and uttering the most awful, horrific, heart breaking five worded sentence, anyone ever could. After I heard those words there was an unexplained dent in the gate room door and a trip to the infirmary with two broken toes.

The five words followed me everywhere, haunting me, killing me slowly, painfully. I couldn't sleep, imagines plagued my rest. I couldn't be awake any longer I couldn't take it. My head hurt from the echoing of that sentence. I wanted it all to be over. I wanted it to end. I wanted to wake from this awful nightmare.

It was one thing to lose someone in the same command; it something else to lose someone under your own command, a friend, a family member. It killed every fibre in my body to think of that death that took so much from me. It took what I didn't even know I had or could have had, it didn't matter now, it was over. I knew the pain of losing someone who was so close to me, it was familiar, but this was different in some way. This felt odd and strange, like no grief I had felt before, it ripped a hole in me, I never knew I could miss something I couldn't have, so much.

Over and over the words repeated, I tried to shake them from my brain, I hated them but they continued on. The five words were burned into my mind and would never leave.

It took her death for me to realize I loved her. It was something that couldn't be taken back, it was too late. She was gone. She had slipped from my grasp because I had failed to listen to my feelings. I had brushed them away like broken glass but it didn't matter anymore, she was gone and nothing I did was going to change that. Not a thing.

Major Carter didn't make it. That was five words.


	2. Chapter 2 Records and Reputations

**Thanks to gatehead81 for leaving the first review and giving me a vote of confidence. And here is another chapter to answer your question mia66, I will be continuing this story hopefully into a good sized fic.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing; I don't own anything at all.**

Giving into Grief

Chapter 2 Records and Reputations

Four hours earlier.

"But why do _you_ have to go?" I asked, expecting a long drawn out reply that I probably wouldn't understand anyway.

"Sir you know why. The weather patterns on P3X-490 are exceedingly different from our own, the study of those patterns could change the way we predict our weather and precipitation."

"Yes it could change the universe and everything, but why do _you_ have to go?" I repeated the question again.

"I have to go because I helped build the satellite and I want to help launch it."

"Okay, okay, so you don't have to go, but you want to?" I raised my eyebrows, I knew I was probably getting annoying by now but I had a reputation to keep up. "You know what you should just ditch the mission."

"Sir, you know I can't," she protested, putting her hands on her hips. "General Hammond wants me to supervise the project."

"So your just gonna' ditch poor old SG-1 and go prancing off on a science mission?" I fake pouted, trying to look hurt.

"Come on sir, SG-1 doesn't embark until after we're scheduled to get back."

"Alright, alright, go, have fun, but I want you back right on time." I tapped my wrist watch. "SG-1 needs your brains."

She laughed, showing a bright smile. "I'm sure you'd be fine without me. You know it's funny, launching a satellite into space is probably the closest thing to "deep space telemetry" as were gonna get." she used air quotes as she spoke.

I raised my eyebrows in surprise and touched her shoulder gently. "Was that sarcasm? I'm proud of you major. And air quotes? You're gonna' take my job as president of the "I love using sarcasm club."

"Yes well, it doesn't take a genius to make a joke."

"Well I'm just gonna' have to kick the humor up a notch."

"I'd love to see what you come up with, but Colonel Reynolds is probably ready to embark, I have to go get my gear on."

"Go. Get ready. Have fun having fun without us."

"You know I will."

"Yeah," I sighed. I would never understand how satellites could be so dang fascinating.

* * *

"Colonel," the bald general greeted me as I entered his office.

"General," I returned with a nod. I didn't bother to salute or anything, he was way too lax for that. I liked him for being that way, I hated saluting every two seconds almost as much as I hated wearing dress blues. "I was just wondering why all of SG1 didn't go to 490 for that satellite mission? I asked curiously.

"Major Carter requested that Reynolds' team accompany her." he leant back into his chair, a smiled creeping into the corners of his mouth.

"May I ask why?" I leaned against the table in the back of the room.

"You may, but I'm at no obligation to answer."

"General," I half-whined half-pleaded.

"She said she didn't want people asking her questions while she was trying to work, she also mentioned people usually end up breaking or playing with her materials."

I thought fast and smiled as replied. "I'll have a talk with Teal'c, sir. I mean, it is just so hard to shut him up and you know about his natural curiosity. As for playing with Carters toys, if something looks like a prop from Star wars Teal'c is gonna' be all over it. Don't worry I'll take care of it."

"I had a feeling you knew exactly what she was talking about," the general smirked. "Is that all?"

"Yes sir." I stood up straight and went to leave the room. I'll take care of it," I called again as I shut the door. I smiled to myself as I trotted down the spiral stairs. I had seceded in annoying someone in the base once again. _Score one hundred and seven for O'Neill._ "That's gotta' be a record." I stated out loud.

"What's got to be a record?" Walter asked. His glasses were perched on the top of his head and he looked flustered and exhausted. I guessed he had been on the night shift again.

"The amount of times you say unscheduled off world activation," I said quickly motioning towards the gate. As if on cue the alien device began to spin and Walter automatically called out his catch phrase.

"You see?" I said, smirking. "Record."

* * *

**What did you think? It ended up with some humor in it, but don't worry, for all those who like sad stories we'll be going back to present time in the next chapter. Once again Review if you feel the need. Next chapter should be tomorrow but it might not be. I'll try and update ASAP!**


	3. Chapter 3 Breaking Down

**Took longer then I thought but I spent the time I wasn't actually writing ironing out my plot ideas. Hope you all like this chapter. It took me a few tries to get it sounding good. I'm not gonna make you review but I would love it if you did.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own a thing.**

Giving into Grief

Chapter 3 Breaking Down

I had been dreading the briefing I would have to attend, ever since I heard the news. I didn't want to sit and listen to how she had died. I hated briefings to start with, but this was the worst I had ever been too. I tried to listen to Reynolds as he explained what had happened, but it was too much. The words burned through me like a hot knife through butter and my mind swam with jumbled conversation.

It hurt to think of her pretty face, pale from death, from being shot by an invisible foe.

"One minute we were walking back to the gate, and the next thing we knew we were surrounded. We couldn't see anything but we knew they were there. Major Carter took a hit so Captain Wiley went to assist and he was hit too. By the time I got to them they were already dead. The rest of us almost didn't get away. Major Harrison, Lieutenant Kennedy and myself all sustained minor injuries.

I heard the words, but I couldn't comprehend. I couldn't grasp her death as a true fact. I still had a hope that it wasn't real, some elaborate joke maybe or maybe a dream, anything but reality.

It finally hit me as I stared at where she should be sitting. Her usual chair was empty. No one dare sit in it. Daniel was there, Teal'c was there, General Hammond was there and Reynolds, but she was missing. She wasn't missing. She wasn't lost. She was gone.

"I'm sorry sir; there was nothing we could do." I knew Reynolds was speaking to Hammond but for some reason it felt like he was apologizing to me. Like she was mine and I had put her in his care. I had to stop thinking about her like that. She wasn't mine and would never be.

The difference between this briefing and other briefings was we were all sorrowful. Daniel's head was dropped down in sadness and never lifted. Teal'c's eyes remained closed as if trying not to cry, I knew he never would, but it gave me comfort knowing I wasn't the only one who was on the verge of breaking down. General Hammond wasn't his normal controlling self and Reynolds voice was quiet. It was more like attending a funeral than a briefing, which sadly was something we would all be attending in the next week. I blinked away those thoughts immediately, I couldn't think about that yet. It made me sick.

I wanted to throw up; I felt like fainting, I wanted to die. I couldn't bear to be in that room another second, it was too much. Every second I felt sicker and sicker. I hated it in there, I hated it and I had to leave. I jumped up and ran off. I was out of the room and I didn't feel better. I had to get to the surface; I wanted to feel the sun on my skin and the wind. Oh how good the wind would feel.

I dashed to the elevator, swiping my card as fast as I could and forcefully jabbing my finger into the button that would take me to the fresh air I needed. My broken toes hurt and now my finger hurt too, but most of all my heart hurt.

The doors slid shut in agonizing slowness. I didn't want anyone following me. I didn't need that too. Only once I was alone in that ascending box did I let myself cry. I couldn't remember the last time I had shed tears. I didn't cry hysterically, I never did. When I cried it was a few tears running down my face. I liked to think I was good at hiding my emotions from people, but this was too much, this had broken me and it was all over.

It was the slowest elevator ride I'd ever been in and I couldn't wait to get off it. When I arrived at the check out I got a strange look from the officer on duty, I obviously looked like crap. I hadn't bothered to wipe my tears, I didn't care anymore.

My toes complained as I ran as far as I could, I didn't know how long I had been running but my surroundings started to become unfamiliar. I fell to the ground and stayed there. It was another few minutes until I realized I was lying in grass and had landed at a park near the mountain. I sat up and cried into my knees. I couldn't believe how I was feeling now that she was gone. I couldn't believe how much I didn't know I loved her until now. I loved her. I loved her so much. A new batch of tears now fell and I received many strange looks from children and their parents. I looked down at myself and realized I was still in my peridot BDUs. I didn't care. I didn't care if the whole world found out about the Stargate Program because of me, it wouldn't bring her back. The world wouldn't know who had saved their planet so many times. They wouldn't know the most amazing woman in the universe and I would never know if she loved me back.

"Jack." A quiet voice spoke my name.

I looked up, squinting because of the blurry tears. It was Daniel and Teal'c. They had followed the rules and changed to their civvies and Teal'c had a black baseball cap on his head. Daniel looked as though he had been crying not long ago and Teal'c still looked as upset as a jaffa could be. "How long have I been out here?" I breathed, my voice catching my throat.

"About an hour," Daniel replied, staring down at me.

I said nothing, gazing down at the grass finding a sudden interest in a clump of dirt. I felt pitiful and worthless. I was supposed to be used to people I knew dying; it was part of the job, but Sam dying was not something I had seen coming. True it was a danger at all times but I thought we were better than that. We'd escaped to many times; I guess it had gone to my head.

"You are not the only one who laments Major Carter's absence. I too have been subject to feelings of grief and sorrow," Teal'c offered, his voice was less deep than normal, his sign of sadness.

"Thanks T," I whispered. I wasn't sure if I was thankful, it hadn't made me feel any better, but Teal'c seemed pleased that he had tried to help me.

"Teal'c is right. Sam was like a sister to me and can't imagine life without her. I can't believe she's gone," Daniel sat next to me on the damp grass, Teal'c stayed standing, leaning over us.

I glared at Daniel; he wasn't exactly helping any of us feel any better. I didn't need him to say what I had already told myself a million times in the last five hours but the effort was nice.

"Come on Jack, say something, you've barely said anything all day."

"I can't," I choked again. "I just I can't."

"I know how you feel." Daniel said under his breath, still on the verge of his tears, his eyes dropped back down to his lap.

"No you don't," I muttered, suppressing a sob. "You don't know how I feel."

Daniel just stared and I went on with a sniff. "You don't know how I feel because you never loved her like I do. I love her so much. I love her more than anything, I would give anything to get her back," I raised my voice, blurting out everything on my mind, suddenly feeling very angry. Whoever did this had taken Sam from me and I was furious with them. I hated this to death. I hated feeling angry, and I hated feeling empty. I could hate but it wouldn't change a thing. I knew that, but the hate had already won out.

General Hammond gave two weeks leave to all of us who had known Sam personally. I was appreciative of that; I didn't think I could even look at the gate again because it had taken her from me, so I was happy to be away. At the same time my mind became crowded and I had nothing to focus on, no job to do, no missions, no stinking reports to write or read, all I did was sit and think about everything and nothing at the same time.

It was weird for me to think back to before her death. I imagined us as a happy couple. I imagined everything was perfect. I imagined our happy life together. But even in that fantasy world not everything was perfect. Even a life tucked away in my mind couldn't escape reality and even in that perfect place real life took her from me. That didn't help anything, it gave me more regret, more pain. More of what I didn't need.

* * *

The days following her death were nothing to me. I wasted them away sitting in my living room drinking beer. Daniel, Janet and Teal'c visited three days after she died. I welcomed their company; it kept me from my thoughts for a few hours. I felt better when I was around them, when we were all grieving together. But at the same time I knew I was in a different boat. They didn't love her like I did and they would never understand what losing her meant to me. We sat around sipping beers and each taking turns trying to break the silence that always fell over the room, except me, I didn't trust myself to speak logically, but from time to time I would offer a little input to the conversation. Usually one worded sentences. That was all I could handle.

"General Hammond has started preparations for the memorial service," Daniel started solemnly, taking another swing of beer.

"He wants all of us to say a few words," Janet added.

My eyes adverted from my beer to her. The general wanted me to speak in front of the entire base about what I had lost. I couldn't even do that with my closest friends.

"I didn't tell Hammond," Daniel began again; I switched my gaze from the doctor to the archaeologist.

"That you loved her," he finished with a sigh, looking straight at me.

I focused my vision on the younger man, my eyes felt ready to fall out from sadness. "It doesn't matter now," I uttered sharply. It really didn't, I wasn't breaking any rules anymore, was I? It really didn't matter if I loved her, she was gone. "It doesn't matter if I loved her. It can't jeopardize missions if she's not even alive."

"I believe it can, O'Neill," Teal'c said deeply. "You still have feelings for Major Carter, do you not? If that is the case, then you may be as vulnerable as you are now when returning to missions."

"Teal'c's right," Daniel agreed. "We want to help you get through this."

I let out a breath and slowly looked around the room avoiding eye contact with the three other people. They acted as if they weren't hurting. I wondered how they could go on like they were. Sam had been special to all of us and they were acting as if nothing had changed, or maybe I was just too caught up in my own grief to notice they were grieving too. I was making everything worse for everyone else but I didn't care.

"Maybe I don't want go get through this," I snapped.

"I do not believe you mean that, O'Neill."

"I did, Teal'c, I meant it. Life without Sam is no life at all for me, even if the love came too late, I still can't forget."

"We don't expect you to forget, Colonel, we just want you to live your life when the time comes," Janet spoke gently.

"I don't know if I can," I mumbled, taking another swing of beer and glancing up at the ceiling.

"Give it time O'Neill," the Jaffa said, taking a sip of his water.

I didn't want to give it time, but I knew the day would come when I would have to except the fact that I couldn't love her any longer. My love for her wouldn't bring her back and so I would have to give up. I couldn't yet. It was just too soon. But someday I would. Today was not that day.


	4. Chapter 4 Self Battles

******Yeah, sorry it took so long. Funny story: so I discovered Harry Potter over the holidays (wow Christmas seems so long ago now) and after watching the movies like 10 times each I decided to start reading the books and yeah, they kind of get addicting and you can't put them down, now I'm very upset about just missing Deathly Hallows Part 1 at my theatre, anyhoo that's why I haven't updated for a while. (Okay so not really all that funny of a story :P)**

**Now I have been pulled away from reading Half Blood Prince long enough to give you this chapter... how can you live knowing you are depriving me of my Harry Potter? lol jk**

**Also I wanted to thank all who have taken time out of their day to read this story as it is my first fic and an extreme work in progress, knowing people read and enjoy it means a lot.****  
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**LAIsobel**** ,**** Your review was totally inspiring for this particular chapter. Thank you for being helpful.****  
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**And another small note. Thanks to my wonderful sisters who beta this for me, don't know what I do without you.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I did I would not need to write a fanfic about how much Sam and Jack love each other, it would be in the show.**

Giving into Grief

Chapter 4

Self Battles

"Today we acknowledge the death of a very brave officer." General Hammond's voice boomed throughout the gate room from where he stood at the top of the ramp. That wasn't true. It wasn't one day and it would be over, I knew it would be forever. I had been acknowledging her death for days and it still wasn't any easier, I knew I would always acknowledge her death wherever I went because I didn't know how to walk away from it. I didn't hear the rest of my CO's speech but when he finished with "Major Carter will be missed" my head shot up from staring at my shoes, which I had neglected to shine for months and were looking rather ugly. At the sound of her name I fought back my emotions that I really didn't want surfacing at that particular time. And of course at that point, being the wonderful man that he is, General Hammond called me up for my '"few words"

My "few words" that were no words at all. I hadn't written a speech. How could I? It was not something I intended to write about, let alone talk about in front of more then half the base.

Once my shaking legs carried me up the ramp and I stared out at the many faces, I closed my eyes, wishing more than anything that I would open them and be anywhere but there. I fought against opening them for fear everything would be real. Finally, I did and it was real, so real. I couldn't hold back anymore. It wasn't what I wanted to do but for me there was no alternative. I couldn't stay and make a speech so I had to run. I couldn't stay and pretend everything was okay, not when everything would never be okay. At the time my mind thought it sensible so I just up and ran off.

For the second time that week I resorted to my top speed to get me out of the base. Instead of running of the premise I flung myself against my truck**, **slumping against the cool exterior**.** I didn't cry there, even with no one watching; my eyes were numb; at least that's how they felt, numb like the rest of me.

I popped up suddenly, remembering what was in the back of my truck. My mind went crazy (or was it already gone?) as I grabbed the old hockey stick from the interior of the vehicle. I wanted to destroy any happiness I had left. It wasn't the least bit right to have a nice shiny truck when Sam was dead.

I widely swung my hockey stick around in the air, yelling what I'm sure were some pretty nasty words that no one was there to hear anyway. After what seemed like years gone in slow motion the stick came in contact with glass and the sweet sound of shattering could be heard. For a second I couldn't believe that I had really just smashed my truck, and then suddenly I realized I really didn't give a damn and took a loop around the vehicle smashing every window and making dents and scraps in the once shiny midnight paint job.

Once I was done that and the parking spot was littered in broken glass I threw down my hockey stick so hard it cracked in two. Without another glance at it I clambered into the cab of my truck, the newly shattered glass crackling under my feet. For a moment I sat there, head resting against the steering wheel, shaking with emotion. I wanted to leave. I couldn't believe how no one acted as I was about it being _her _memorial; I didn't envy their ability to not feel what I was feeling. I wasn't jealous that they were moving on because I didn't want to move on at all. Everything was not okay, not for me. Everything would never be okay and I was determined to show the world that I would not take her death and live on.

With these thoughts coursing through my jumbled brain I jammed the key angrily into the ignition, turning it roughly. The engine roared to life as if nothing was wrong at all. I cursed at the truck for sounding so happy just like everyone else. I hit the gas peddle, hard leaving the base quickly and making my escape. A few blocks over and I felt I could breath again or at least the smallest bit better. I was alone again. Alone in my grief and that was fine.

Was it an insult to her memory to up and leave her memorial service like that? In my opinion it was an insult that the others were not feeling her death like I was. It was as if they didn't miss her, like they didn't care. I couldn't see how I was the one who was acting so stupidly because to me I was being rational; to me the others were stupid for not acting like I was. For not grieving the way I was.

After a few minutes of driving I just stopped. Something hit me, a thought, something I hadn't remembered in years. It was one of my darkest memories, something I had tucked away. Maybe l didn't want to live anymore. Maybe I wanted to die. I had wanted to do it once before and I almost had. I was set, ready to pull that trigger, ready to end my life. How was this situation any different from before? Then it had been my child. I had lost Charlie and I had wanted to end my own pathetic life. Now with Sam, was it different?

_It's not different, it's not different_, a voice chanted in my head as I reached for the gun that I kept in the glove compartment. My fingers brushed against the cold steel and my heart stopped beating in my chest. It _was_ different. With Charlie it had been a knowing loss. I knew, from the first second he was gone, all that I had lost all that had been taken. I knew with his last breath the love I felt for him. With Sam it was an unknowing loss. I didn't know how I loved her. I didn't know what I could've had until it was too late, how incredible cliché that was, but true. I knew I cared about her, she was my friend, my teammate, we had faced death together, but one thing I hadn't done was let myself tell the truth, both to her and to my own heart. I was pathetic. I was not good enough for her anyway. I was ready to finish it.

Maybe it was finally time for me to die. I had little life let in me because her death had taken it away. I could feel it fading every minute I suffered that loss, every second I breathed I felt guilty she was not. Maybe it was time for everything to end. Than again maybe deep down I really didn't want to die, somehow that seemed a concept so far away to even consider. My mind was set and determined to end it and I was going to.

Bringing the gun level with my face, I cocked it smoothly, the sound shot through the silence and suddenly the cab of the truck felt extremely cold. The windshield, which I now noticed I had failed to destroy, became foggy as if knowing what was coming and hiding the view from any possible bystander. In the cold, a wisp of silver air escaped my mouth, showing me what would be one of my last breaths. I raised the pistol; pointing it at my head, hand shaking, finger poised over the trigger.

I was ready. I took one last breath and waited for the sudden abrupt stop and the ringing shot that would end my suffering. It never came. I couldn't do it. Why couldn't I do it? "Why can't I do it?" I whispered aloud.

That small fleeting concept had escaped the dark place in the back of my mind. It had surfaced somehow telling me that maybe I had something left. Maybe this was not the thing to die over. Maybe I did have something worth living for.

I hadn't done it before, when this pain had come, so I couldn't do it now. Somehow I knew the future held something big. I couldn't kill myself not with the gun, nor by any other means. The same kind of weapon I held in my hand had killed my son and I hated it. The same weapon had failed Sam in battle and I hated it. It had made their deaths possible, yet it couldn't make mine possible. I dropped the gun to the floor with a clunk, betraying it. It rested next to the broken glass where I forget about it for a few minutes, because to me it was useless.

I had made the decision to not die but it didn't mean I had made the decision to live again. I didn't know if I was happy about it. The pain of her absence still burned through me and I felt as if it would never end. I hated the mental pain but maybe I could end that and still live. Maybe all it took was a distraction, something to make me forget the hurt in my heart. I needed a different kind of pain to take her away from my mind. I needed a pain I could feel, not with my heart, but with my physical being.

Without another thought I snatched the gun off the floor, letting my finger scratch smoothly against the glass, giving me a small tester of what was to come. The steel weapon felt useful again and I was filled with anticipation as small beads of blood trickled down my knuckles. I wasn't scared or worried as I shot my right leg without a single regret. The pain flooded me and I welcomed it. Physical pain was so much easier than the kind of mental pain that had haunted me. But no more would I feel my mind hurting.

I sat there in a pool of red that gathered under my thigh, soaking the seat, staining it scarlet and filling the air with the hot stench. It was during those breaths of blood-filled air that my head whirled and I decided the one shot just above my knee was not enough to take all those thoughts away. As the blood continued to trickle down my leg speckling the glass with deep red, I pulled the trigger again and this time the pain shot through my left shoulder. I was a little surprised, having no idea where I had been pointing the gun or where I had planned to shoot, but the pain the second bullet added to the first made it more therapeutic against my suffering. Yet more blood fell to the steering wheel and soaked into the leather behind me. I could feel the shot to my shoulder had gone right through, the pain torn through like fire and ice. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, suddenly as if out of nowhere I felt every once of pain and barely stayed on the brink of consciousness.

All I saw was the red of my own blood and the flashes of my blurring vision as my life faded from my eyes. I really hadn't meant to kill myself, not yet at least, but at that moment things were looking towards that fate. I had chosen the painful way, instead of a quick shot to the head but I knew I had wanted to suffer before the end.

More flashes, more red, more pain, it was torture and it all became so much. Finally I regained enough composure to raise my hand one more time. Way not go out with another bang, I was already gone anyway. I was already dead. I put another bullet in my leg, wedged just above the first metal pellet. By that time I was absolutely drenched in blood and the pain was unbearable. I felt myself slipping away. This was truly the end for me. I would die here in my blood, letting it pool around me and wash over me. I had killed myself not with the gun, but days before when I had heard of her death. I hadn't been living, only surviving and that just wasn't enough.

I slumped against the horrible blood-stain seat as the dark shadows of unconsciousness closed in and I went to that oh so familiar place. But just before everything went black I thought of her just one more time before everything I knew disappeared and became sweet nothing. I didn't expect to ever wake up. I didn't expect to still live after all that.

**Well that was cheerful! It's my birthday so ****Please review and let me know what you think, I'd really like to know if people are actually reading and enjoying my story. Reviews also make me want to write more so if you drop me a few lines you might get a chapter faster.****  
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	5. Chapter 5 Captives

**So this should be cheerful. Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter everyone. Lets see what happens next … might not be what you expect.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

Giving into Grief

Chapter 5

Captives

"_I'd have rather died myself than lose Carter." _His voice was soft as it spoke familiar words._ "Because I care about her. A lot more than I'm supposed to."_I felt the corners of my mouth tug as the words continued to repeat in my mind. Even if I was asleep and only dreaming the moment that often invaded my sleep had happened in real life and that gave me comfort even in my deep unconsciousness. Suddenly the voice that kept repeating was taken away from me. The image of him disappeared and I was drawn to the conscious world.

I woke with a start and immediately knew it wasn't because of the dream I had just had. I had it too often for it to make me jump from sleep. No, something was wrong. I tried to escape my apparent worry and go back to that dream, wishing that something had come of it. But there was nothing for it; it was only a thought in my head that had come from a moment so many years ago.

Again I was snapped into consciousness and I knew something was wrong the second I had passed the drowsiness of first waking up. The hard, cold surface gave away I had not just woken up in my bed and when I opened my eyes, blinded at first, I took in my surroundings and knew I really did have a very good reason for waking with a start. I had reason to be worried and even a little frightened. I was in a cell. Large metal bars made up one wall of the small room and a large lock was at one end of the metal door.

I tried to remember exactly was had ended in my capture but my brain was fogged by the grogginess that only came with just being unconscious. I realized the hard surface I was lying on happened to be the floor and I attempted to pull my stiff body from it by pulling on the bars. Eventually I seceded and wobbled against one of the solid walls. I knew there was really nothing I could do about the situation except figure out why I was there in the first place so I tried wracking my brain.

I had been on a mission, obviously. I was setting up a satellite, yes! That was it, it was all coming back. Who was there? Me, again obviously, but the rest of SG1 wasn't there, that was a good thing. Relief flooded through me at the knowledge. They would be working hard to find me and rescue me. We don't leave our people behind, not ever, so I knew they would do everything they could to make sure I made it home safe. Even with that knowledge I couldn't help but miss having them with me because I always felt safe when we were facing something like this as a team. For the moment I had to deal with being a captive for as long as it took for him-them to find me. And I had to be prepared for the chance that they didn't come. Yes, we don't leave our people behind but sometimes it can't be helped and sometimes there really is nothing we can do.

I set to the task of making sure there was really no way out of my confines. It didn't take long. The windows were a bust, almost as if they were unbreakable glass and there was no way the bars would let me escape. Only a few minutes after waking up a few Jaffa arrived to drag me from the room.

It was only after being dragged several feet I finally looked up at my escorts. Jaffa, that also was not a good sign and I began to feel a sinking and sick feeling in my stomach. Jaffa servants meant a Goa'uld was nearby and that defiantly was the worst thing I had learned since regaining conciseness although who else would put me in a cell. As we walked on down the corridors, presumably of a Goa'uld fortress or outpost, we met up with two more Jaffa escorting a slim young man. I recognized the wild red hair and camouflage bandana at once; it was Captain Wiley from Reynolds team. "Major Carter," he called out the second he saw me, earning him a hit to the jaw with the nearest guards' zat gun.

"Wiley, are you okay!" I couldn't help but ask. I was both comforted and even more worried at the news of Wiley also being a captive. It was good to know I was not alone, but escape would be even more impossible, especially since we were being held in separate cells. After blurting out my concern for the younger officer I also received a whack to the head and a warning not to talk. It was then for the first time, I thought to look at the Jaffa's tattoo. As I was dragged along, now next to a struggling Wiley, I glimpsed the shining gold on the forehead of the Jaffa nearest to me. I was sure I had seen the symbol before but I couldn't remember what Goa'uld it represented. I had a feeling I would find out soon enough and I was not looking forward to it. Had it not been for the hope that Jack and the others would be working hard to find us even at that second, I'm sure I would have been as frightened as Wiley looked and he was as pale as a sheet.

It was hard not to talk to Wiley and ask if he had anymore information about what had happened as the Jaffa continued to drag us forcefully down the halls. Eventually the hallway lead into a large room and the Jaffa nearest to me spoke it a deep voice. "Lord we have brought the prisoners."

"Excellent." a deep Goa'uld voice came from the back that was turned to us. "At last I get to meet the famous Samantha Carter," the voice has an indescribable smirk in it, a cocky tint and overbearing cruelness. "Kneel before your god!" he ordered as he finally turned towards us. I still didn't recognize the face but I had a feeling I knew who he was. A Jaffa kicked me hard in the knees without giving me a second to consider kneeling on my own accord, not that I would have and from the grunt at my side I figured Wiley had been forced to his knees as well. Even if I didn't want to, the military part of me knew it was necessary to know exactly who and what we were dealing with. "And which god are you again?" I asked without thinking of what this would earn me. And sure enough my outburst gained me another smack to the head, causing warm blood to pour from my mouth.

"Insolence," the Goa'uld shouted, spiting at me. Although he was clearly annoyed by me he couldn't help but answer my question in a significant tone. "I am Lord Ba'al and you will pay for your stupidity."

"What do you want with us?" I demanded at once, while spitting warm, foul tasting blood to the floor. I was angered by knowing this was Ba'al, who had captured and tortured my CO only a year previously, but I was much more at ease knowing it was I who would go through Ba'al's painful measures while I knew Colonel Oniell was hopefully safe at the SGC. For the first time since waking up in the cell like room I hoped he wasn't out there looking for me, the last thing I wanted was for him to be captured too. He wasn't mine to love or to care that much about but I couldn't stop my heart from being relieved with it being me in Ba'al hands and not him.

I had almost forgotten the question I had asked until Ba'al answered breaking me from my thoughts. "I want nothing with this scum!" he now spat at Wiley. "I do however require your Tau'ri knowledge and I may have to resort to, what do they say? Drastic measures, to acquire your cooperation."

I didn't think I had heard right or at least I hadn't wanted to hear right. "You want my help when you just threatened that I would pay for my stupidity?"

"Silence!"

I received yet another blow sending searing pain through my temple once again. I brushed this away and changed my slightly blurring vision back to Ba'al as he spoke again. "You will still pay, but first you will help me."

I had no response that wouldn't give me another punch to the face so I kept my mouth shut, Wiley, however, didn't. "What do you want our help with?" his voice was slightly shaky but he put on a strong face and I admired his bravery after already being punched a few times. I knew he was relatively new at the SGC and had only been given the spot on Reynolds team a month ago, yet he acted as if he had dealt with system lords all the time. In fact he reminded me a lot of Colonel O'Neill in the first few years of the Stargate Programe.

"As I said, I do not require the disgusting presence of your pathetic insolent being." Ba'al sneered unpleasantly at Wiley. "However, when Major Carter of SG1 came to my planet believing it was uninhabited, and without her regular, pesky team of miscreants, I took the opportunity. Although I am a genius I daresay that Samantha Carter in my clutches could be to my advantage. All my new weapons against the irksome Tau'ri will now be perfected with your cooperation, even if I have to force you to it." He was laughing in an evil manner and his eyes glowed as his smirk became larger more vicious. "And I have ways to make you do my bidding."

"I'll never help you," I stated plainly, struggling as the jaffa behind me tightened his hold on me.

He only chuckled, bringing the tips of his fingers to rest together, "I think you'll find you will. Shall I give you an indication of what is to come should you fail to help me?"

Ba'al smirked again, a heinous grin stretching across his face as his First Prime, who had stood unmoving behind him, handed him a stick that resembled a shrunken pitchfork with spokes that were to short. I grimaced inwardly as I watched Ba'al handle the torturing device from hand to hand. "You will find that helping me will be in your best interests," he gave another smirk and moved so quickly I didn't have time to react. I didn't remember much of what happened next, but I did recall a flash of robes as Ba'al neared me and then pain, so much pain. I hit the floor and then more pain and screaming echoing in my ears, my own screaming. Then someone else screaming, Wiley's screaming. It echoed in my head for what seemed like hours, never ending, growing higher and more painful as the pain I felt increased. Finally there was nothing but black as I lay against the cold, hard floor.

**Didn't see that coming did you? But y'all knew and couldn't and wouldn't actually kill Sam off right? ****Please, please, please review! Another chappie will be up soon.**


	6. Chapter 6 Over Her Dead Body

**Hi all, I'm back with another chapter.**

**I just wanna say that I am so thankful for every single review. You guys are awesome!**

**LAIsobel**** – I always love your reviews and get really excited when I see you've left one :D Glad you're still interested even though Sam's alive. I look forward to your next review.**

**cw – I hate cliff-hangers too, but they are fun to write : )**

**Alia el Bolock**** – I am so flattered by your comments, I have no words to say how happy they made me and I'm glad you like my attempt at humour. Thank you for writing 3 reviews, one being very long and helpful. I can't thank you enough for saying all those nice things about my writing, now I'm the one in awe! :D**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate or any of its characters. I do, however, own the character of Captain Wiley; he is the creation of me and my sisters.**

**Thanks to my betas.**

**And here we go!**

Giving into Grief 6

Chapter 6

Over Her Dead Body

I woke with instant sharp pain in my left side where the torture device had made contact with my skin. Underneath the oozing scorch marks my ribs ached from the strain of the torture. My mouth was so dry from screaming and my stomach still ached from the sinking feeling of being a captive. All this was forgotten, however, when I heard the grunts of pain coming from the crumpled form that was Wiley.

I crawled to him and checked him over. While I had received only one long sharp prick, Wiley had many wounds patterned across his chest and the worst was bleeding onto the floor. Doing my best not to cause him more pain I cleaned it out with what little water we had been given and pressured it with the captain's bandana.

A few minutes after I finished he woke and gasped in pain. His eyes threatened to roll back into his head, but I helped him sit up and held him upright until his breathing calmed and his eyes were fixed on me without wavering. "Major Carter?" he croaked, blinking and squinting.

"Wiley," His name came out in a rasp as I sought out his arm and clutched it tightly in my sweaty grip. "Are you alright?"

"I've been better." was his tired and pain-laced reply, delivered through clenched teeth. "How are you major?" I could see he was trying his best to be strong, to ride out the agony, to hide his exhaustion.

"I'm fine but your not," I stated as gently as possible, as I caught sight of the blood seeping through the makeshift bandana bandage.

"I'm okay," Wiley insisted stubbornly, moving a few inches away from me. The sudden jolt sent him into his suffering again and his face screwed up. "This is so stupid!" he uttered under his breath, while trying to catch it.

Stupid? To me the situation was terrifying, painful, and had a sense of responsibility on my part, yes it wasn't ideal, at all, but was it stupid? "Wiley?" I said his name questionably, sliding down the wall next to him.

"It was my first big mission and it ends up like this," he motioned to the holes in his jacket and the blood gathering on the fabric. "I feel helpless."

"Wiley it's not wrong to feel helpless but you need to stay strong, you were amazing earlier, you acted so brave," I tried my best to console the battered captain while masking the pain in my side because his was greater.

"And look where that got me," Wiley almost shouted, in taking breath so quickly and desperately, I almost feared he had stopped breathing. "I'm not brave enough to be on an SG team, I'm never going to escape."

"Don't think like that."

"Easy for you to say, you're Major Samantha Carter. I bet you've never been anything but brave in a situation like this."

"That is not true. There have been times I was worried I would never get away, times when I was sure I was going to die. But Wiley, what I have learned over the years is not to ponder on what could happen if you never get away but on how you are going to get away and to never give up. Do you hear what I'm saying? Don't give up on me because if you do, both our chances of escaping are next to nothing."

He nodded, tears glistening on the surfaces of his eyes. I truly understood what he was going through because I had been there. I had been that young fearful but naive captain. And even with the truth I had told Wiley, I still had the smallest of doubt, but no matter what hope is always greater is more important than fear. One will outweigh the other if you have enough of one to overcome the other and right than I was hoping _he_ was looking for me and that chased away my fear.

Though our conversation seemed to make Wiley think about the perspective of things it made me realize how I was I charge, how I had certain responsibility over him, which added just a little more doubt in my abilities. I had always been the one who followed orders, _his_ orders, in situations like this. But now I was the one who had to be strong for more than just myself. The thought of my team gave me hope, hope that I had to plant into the shallow breathing, shaking captain beside me. "Wiley another thing you need to understand is that our teams will do everything they can to get us back."

"My team won't. I'm nothing to them I'm just the new guy!"

"Come on Wiley you know that's not true, I know that's not true. Even a short amount of time off world can create special bonds. You need to accept that you are important, Wiley, if not to them than to me, because going through something like this alone is hell."

Wiley looked frightened and relieved at the same time as he stared at me, a pained look still on his face. "It's a comfort to have you here to Major." he smiled ever so slightly before closing his eyes and slumping against the wall.

"Thank you, Wiley," I whispered to his limp form. After that I decided to let him sleep, he needed that escape at least for the time that was given to him.

Turns out Wiley didn't escape for long. Twenty minutes after our conversation our Jaffa escort showed up. I couldn't say I was happy to see them but I sprung to my feet and gently woke Wiley before they had time to do it themselves in their unpleasant and vicious fashion. As he blinked away the sleep, eyes widening in reappearing fear I whispered to him. "Be brave Wiley, you'll be fine."

He nodded jerkily before the Jaffa balled the neck of our jackets in their fists and lead us away from our cells, weapons pointed at us all the way.

This time we were forced to kneel in front of Ba'al in a different, smaller room with several consoles which in normal circumstances I would have been eager to look at. However, remembering what Ba'al had said to us before, I had a feeling they weren't there just for decoration or to control normal functions of the outpost.

"Again I have to look at the disgusting sight of the infamous Tau'ri," Ba'al spat the moment my knees hit the floor. I heard Wiley grimace beside me, already he looked more petrified than before and I knew why. I too had seen that the torture device was present in the room, resting in the hands of one of the many Jaffa.

I immediately gritted my teeth, putting on my brave face. "Believe me if we had a choice-" Whack! I didn't get to finish, this time I had been punched in my torture wound and I doubled over in pain. I heard Wiley grunt as he fought the Jaffa holding him, trying to get to me.

I sat up quickly, trying hard to ignore the pain as I shot a loathing look at Baal with as much hate as I could muster, but I kept quiet, it wasn't worth talking and my father had always said my looks were enough to kill. If only it was that easy to kill a Goa'uld, just give them an evil glare and watch as they drop dead, I almost had to keep myself from laughing at the metal picture; it was the sort of picture _he_ would usually plant into my head. As I thought of him feelings surfaced that I was forced to ignore. Ba'al had begun to proclaim the finer points of what I was to do for him, as if.

"I forced one of my colleagues to make me a device that any system lord would crave."

"I assume by colleague you mean captive?" I interrupted and I knew it would cost me. It did; a prick with the torture device, just enough for the message to get across, just enough to make me think again before talking, but not enough to knock me out.

"You will stay quiet you insolent woman! Or it will be far worse than that," he glared at me, annoyance clearly on his face. "For both of you." he pointed a finger at Wiley who whimpered quietly under the System Lord's stare. I decided right there to stay quiet, for Wiley's sake.

"I wanted a device that would hide my fortresses, outposts, fleets and armies' from your pathetic Tau'ri friends. With the right encouragement," Baal paused to smirk and chuckle. And I knew by encouragement he meant torture and I felt for whoever the captive had been. "He finally produced a device able to cloak the wearer." Baal continued after a longer dramatic pause then necessary. "With more persuasion he produced a device capable of cloaking this outpost. Unfortunately it was an hour after his usefulness had run out and his pathetic life had been ended by his marvellous god, the device failed. It had flaws I believe were intentional and if my 'colleague' had been alive when I learned of the flaws he would have suffered far worse then death. You will make this device free of flaws and fit for use against the Tau'ri."

"Over my dead body" I wanted to say but I kept my lips sealed by pressing them tight together and biting my lip to keep me from wanting to make my reply. This made me think of _him_, somehow even in the situation the thought of him made me smile inwardly. I was shook from my thoughts when Wiley decided to speak when I had not.

"She'll never help you!" he spat equally as well as Baal did, giving the Jaffa reason to give him the usual punishment for speaking and as the blood poured from his jaw I saw Wiley press his lips together in the same way I had done.

"I thought you might show me such childish resentment, there is no need for it. Your precious team will not come to rescue you. No, I have made sure of that," the system lord sneered as he walked circles around me.

Before I could stop myself words had fallen out of my mouth in an angry and panicked yell. "What have you done?"

"I have diminished the need for the "our friends will come for us" line that you Tau'ri so annoyingly whine about. They will indeed not come because to them you are dead, to them you are nothing but a body left behind in an ambush on a believed to be uninhabited planet. Help will not come. But as your god I am willing to be merciful should you make progress towards my goal of wiping the Tau'ri out."

This time I really did shout "over my dead body", this not only earned me a row with the stick of torture but Wiley as well. His screams of pain were almost worse then the pain itself. Finally it ended and I was ordered to get to work, with the pain of knowing help was not coming, and knowing I had no choice but to do as Ba'al said. I set to work as Wiley watched me almost listlessly from the corner of the room where he had retreated as far away from the Jaffa guards as humanly possible. He shook and rocked back and forth with pleading in his eyes. It was in that moment I set aside all thoughts of pretending to make progress to stave of punishment. If I was going to stop them torturing Wiley I would have to produce real results. I nodded in his direction, catching his eye and silently promising to do everything in my power to stop them touching him. With fear and loathing seething in my brain I went about the task that was easier said then done, just hoping I could keep the promise I had just made.

**Did you like it? Please review! Reviews make me a happy camper!**


	7. Chapter 7 Guilt

**Okay, you would not believe how awful I feel that I hadn't updated in like a millennia, but I don't really have any original excuses…. You know just the normal; school, didn't feel like writing, didn't have time etc. Anyhoo I'm back! …. Or should I say Lucy I'm home!**** Either way, which ever you prefer. Lol. So I'm really sorry if this chapter is boring, but it I think it's a necessary kind of boring. I had soooooo much trouble writing it and I'm afraid this is as good as it's gonna get… possibly. Anyhoo (again) I really hope you haven't all dumped my story because I haven't updated and if this chapter seems kind of suckish I promise (permitting my muse is on) the next few chappies will get exciting. Next chappie should be real soon... its written just needs some adjustifying, not making any promises since I have a busy weekend, but I hope to have it up in a timely manner.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Stargate or its characters.**

**Thank you sister beta!**

**Thanks for reading, all you readers…..**

Giving into Grief

Chapter 7 Guilt

I was relieved at first, because while I set to work at the consoles Wiley remained peacefully silent and calm in the corner. It was a relief to no longer hear his screams and the fact that he was looking less pale by the second was a small comfort. As the hours passed I got more and more frustrated and I was starting to think I knew less about the device than when I had first started, Wiley had nodded off to sleep and I was grateful that he had been able to find that escape at least for a little while. Hunger was starting to set in, my whole body ached, I was already exhausted and I had a feeling it was only the beginning. I was right.

Bad news arrived in the form of Baal and I knew things were about to get ugly. It was then that my relief of Wiley's safety started to fade and that horrible feeling in my stomach returned. I almost felt like throwing up and decided that if I really did vomit I would make sure Baal's shoes were in my line of fire. That sounded like something the Colonel would say. That gave me a little more strength and a little less fear.

"My Jaffa have told me you have made no changes to the device, your procrastination is unbearable and will be punished," Baal sneered glancing at Wiley, with clear disgust on his face.

"I figured," I replied with little emotion. I had expected this and was prepared for the torture, prepared for my punishment for failing my supposed god. As if!

"Again, I will show you the punishment for failing your god. Jaffa!" Baal's voice was booming and seemed to shake the whole room. I gulped, mostly because my throat was so dry, but also because I had a really awful feeling about what was going to happen.

Upon Baal's command the Jaffa snapped to motion immediately and stepped towards us quickly. Even though I was somewhat prepared for what was coming I flinched when the Jaffa jerkily grabbed hold of my shoulder and forced me to my knees. Wiley whimpered as he was woken and forced down just a few meters away from me. He was now directly in front of Baal. The young captain glanced sideways at me with silent fear in his eyes. He had his brave solider face on, but his eyes betrayed him and it was apparent for anyone who cared enough to look into his dull green irises that he was frightened. I was too, but I wouldn't show that to Baal; I wouldn't give him that satisfaction. I hoped I would be able to keep that up after a few more rounds of torture, but in that moment I was almost determined to laugh in his face. I guess a certain colonel was rubbing off on me. Again, the thought of my CO millions of light years away gave me more strength. I fought against the jaffa that held me down, just to show Baal I wouldn't take it that easily, because that would be what the colonel would do. And I could see from the corner of my eye that Wiley was also putting up a bit of a fight. I even think I saw blood flow from one of the Jaffa's noses. I smiled inwardly.

After a few more minutes of prolonged staring from Baal and struggling from us, Baal stepped closer to Wiley and I fought again while Wiley's eyes reflected a greater amount of fear with every step the Goa'uld took. Baal raised his hand and I understood. I understood how Baal intended to break me. He would break Wiley, and by doing so he believed he would get what he wanted from me. I wouldn't let him get to me, but at the same time I couldn't let Baal punish Wiley for something he didn't do, something that was my fault and not his. He was brave yes, but being captured and tortured is enough to break even the strongest heart. He was so young and new to gate travel. He didn't deserve to be there. He didn't deserve my failure. In his fear he deserved someone who didn't fail him, someone he could look up to, and someone who could stop this from happening. That someone wasn't me.

Baal was tentative with his hand. He made sure there was enough time for me to see the look in his eye before he acted. A second later and it had started. Baal's hand was raised and the ribbon device gleamed and then there was nothing in my world but the screams from Wiley and the laughs of joy from Baal. I started to scream Wiley's name, but it was too late to be any kind of help to him. Baal was sending steady ribbons of yellow light flowing from his palm and into Wiley's forehead. The beams penetrated the skin of the young Captain's head and went even deeper. Now Wiley was screaming and grunting in more pain then I had ever witnessed. Watching his suffering, which I was responsible for, was worse then feeling the most painful pain forever. He was beyond suffering and it was my entire fault. I couldn't explain all that was feeling as I was forced to witness Wiley's treatment. I was experiencing more guilt then I had ever had. I felt more helpless, more lost, more scarred, more responsible every second the tortured went on. Nothing was in my vision but that figure of Captain Benjamin Wiley slumped in pain before me. Nothing was more important then him.

Tears now pricked my eyes and made it harder to see, but that only made the screaming more vivid. "STOP, STOP IT'S NOT HIS FAULT IT'S MINE! PLEASE LEAVE HIM ALONE!" I cried out in desperation. "TORTURE ME INSTEAD! I begged, but no matter what I did Wiley's screams continued. "Please," I begged in a whisper, feeling as if life was gone from my body. I offered to take his place, I was slapped aside and Wiley's screams grew more and more painful. I felt guilty and selfish for feeling tired, hungry and frustrated and for the pain I felt from the torture I had gotten the night before. That was nothing. What Wiley was feeling, that pain, that was a real intolerable and horrific discomfort. I was a failure at being the higher officer. I was a failure at being any help. I was a failure at keeping my promise to keep Wiley safe.

There was only one feeling that I was not guilty of, one that I let grow every second the torture went on. Anger. Seething and bubbling anger at Baal. I wanted him to die in the most painful way possible and I wanted to be the one to make it happen. My bottled up anger fuelled my energy and I surprised even myself when I lunged at Baal and broke free from the Jaffa. I hit Baal's hand away and Wiley slumped to the ground in a pile of limbs.

The only thing greater then Baal's anger now was my own and I had made things worse. Baal looked ready to kill. I glanced in Wiley's direction and Baal seemed to read my mind. "Does seem like a shame to keep him alive now," he sneered, walking a circle around the Captain's body. I lunged at him again, wanting nothing more than to grasp his throat in my shaking hands only to find one of the Jaffa's strong armoured grips holding me back once again. I felt almost dark and evil from the thoughts I was having, but Wiley was my responsibility and Baal had crossed the line when he had hurt him. "Kill me instead." was my instant and steady reply once again.

"But why kill the famous Samantha Carter; she can do so much for us?" Baal scoffed in a mocking tone.

"I won't do a thing for you," I spat, struggling to be free again.

"I have just proved that you will. In showing compassion for his worthless life," Baal motioned to Wiley, who was heaving and whimpering on the floor, I fought the Jaffa harder at the sight of the destroyed Captain. "You will repair the device or he will die."

I closed my eyes at the words. It was the last thing I wanted to hear, but Baal didn't end there, things became worse.

"Make considerable progress shortly or I will not hesitate to repeat what you have just seen done to your precious companion and I can make it worse to witness as well as experience." Baal snapped his fingers and two Jaffa dragged Wiley to his feet. I saw the tears streaking down his face. His whole body was heaving with sobs of pain and he sagged forward, the guards taking his weight. His eyes rolled in all directions and a splotchy, sharp red mark was glaring from just above and between his eyes. Finally his head dropped and I could no longer see the pain on his face, but I knew it was still there. "Wiley I'm sorry," I whispered. My voice did nothing. He didn't react. He didn't move. He didn't blink. Baal snickered. "You really think he'll accept your apology after that? He will not trust you again. You failed him."

And then Wiley was being pulled away from me. I tried to follow, but they were too strong. I threw my whole body against the Jaffa but that only made me winded. Gasping against the impact I called to Wiley, hoping he would hear. "Wiley be strong, don't give up!" and then they were gone and I found myself face to face with Baal.

Part of me wanted to listen to Baal, part of me wanted to ignore him. Was he right? Would Wiley trust me after what my failure did to him? There was one thing I was sure of: I would keep fighting for both of us no matter what, but the question was would he want my help anymore, or would he flinch away when I try to help him and ignore my tearful and guilty apologies

I wished I could go to our cell to make sure Wiley was safe, if that was even where they had taken him. I wanted to clean his wounds and tell him everything would be alright. I wanted to hear him say he didn't blame me even though I blamed myself. He just had to be strong. He just had to be alive when I got back to the cell. That was all I wanted.

Even worse then witnessing the torture was the fact that it was my fault, but that was exactly the point. I had to give it to Baal, torturing Wiley for my mistakes and for the progress I didn't make was the right way to get to me.

I set back to work as soon as Baal had left the room. Knowing Baal, even if I fixed the device there was no guarantee that Wiley or even I would live, but I had nothing else to do and it was possible that it would keep Wiley's number of torture sessions from increasing and if anything I could do would help him, anything at all, I would do it and I would do it without hesitation.

That was why, even knowing I could be helping Baal build forces against Earth, I set to work. The last thing I wanted was for Baal to wipe out our planet but I had to do something and deep down I knew I could never do what Baal asked. The device would never function under my hands. I could never fix it fully. It was impossible. Even if the manual- if you could call the notes from the creator of the device a manual- wasn't in some other language I probably couldn't have made it work. But I didn't give up, at least I told myself I wouldn't and couldn't. I kept trying and as I worked I was in tears, almost without knowing it. I wasn't an emotional person normally, but this was too deep and I was too exhausted. I wanted to sleep, but sleep would haunt me. I just didn't know how I was supposed to feel, how I was supposed to act, what I was supposed to say. I was in a position I had never been in before and I didn't know what to do. I felt like I had no one to turn to. _The Colonel_had always been there for me and I knew that this was a time he would never come. I tried to strive forward; there was nothing else I could do. The device was too complex. I was too confused. My mind was too far gone. My mind, the mind of Samantha Carter, was refusing to function. I was failing Wiley more every second but I couldn't fix it, I couldn't make it work. Baal wanted the impossible. I wanted someone there to encourage me, anybody at all. I needed some hope, but there really was none for me in that room at that time. I was in a tough place and I felt trapped. I felt like the world had caught me and that I would never be free.

It was hours and hours later when finally the jaffa escorted me back to the cell. I was frightened at the many possible conditions I might find Wiley in. I was relieved, however, to find Wiley sitting up and more importantly breathing. He gave a faint smile when he saw me and I was reassured again by his strength and bravery. "Are you okay Wiley?" I asked without thinking. As soon as the words left my lips I kicked myself. He most certainly wasn't okay. He had just been horrifically tortured. Even if his body was alright it was likely his mind was not.

He didn't answer at first and Baal's words came back to my mind. This was it; Wiley was going to just block me out, shut himself off from me.

"I don't blame you." a small quiet voice finally spoke. It sounded almost nothing like the brave and feisty Wiley that I had witnessed earlier that day. I wouldn't have believed it was him had I not been completely sure we were alone.

"What?" I frowned at Wiley. "Why not? I blame me!"

"Because I know you are doing your best and because if I had a choice of anyone to be here with me in this situation, any one at all, it would be you Major." It took a lot of effort for Wiley to say these words but it was all I needed to hear to be reassured that Wiley still trusted and relied on me.

We were still in it together. And what he had said, without me being a member of his team, without even really being at all acquainted, truly meant a lot. We were more then friends after that day, because after that day we were survivors. We had survived Baal this long and I had hope we could survive longer if we had to, as long as we were together. I had a feeling that the next day we would wake up even stronger because of what we had made it through already. The Tau'ri hadn't given in to Baal yet and I knew I never would because Wiley and the thoughts of my team would keep me going all the way to the end. It was as simple as that.

And as I watched Wiley drift off next to me I said the only thing any one could possibly say in that situation. "I'm glad you're here too Wiley. I'm glad you're here too." Part of me really meant it, I was glad I wasn't alone, but part of me really wished my team was there with me no matter how glad I was of Wiley's company at the time. Part of me wished that _he_ was there next to me, giving me support and making jokes to make it all seem better. I fell asleep thinking about past times being captured with _him_sitting in the cell next to me cracking his newest joke with a smirk on his face. It was a pleasant way to fall asleep and it would have been the starts of a perfect dream had I not been lying on a cold cell floor wondering if I would die the next day or worse watch a fellow SGC member meet his end.


	8. Chapter 8 Wake Me Up When it's Over

**Heyo my dear readers! So here is the next chappie for you guys. I was in such a rush at posting the last chapter (after being absent for quite some time) that I forgot to thank you all for the reviews on the previous chapter. So anyhoo, thank you all for reviewing both chapters 6 and 7 and thank you for all that faved and alerted my story. Next chappie shouldn't be to long and I hope you all enjoy this one.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own anything, whatsoever to do with Stargate.**

**Thanks to my betas.**

Giving into Grief 8

Wake Me Up When it's Over

Wiley was dying. Neither of us would ever admit it aloud but I could see he was fading. With each passing hour he slipped farther away, became paler and shaking more violently. He was truly scarred.

Our hopes of a better tomorrow were crushed. Baal had kept his word, Wiley was tortured by the hour and I was forced to watch, knowing it was my doing. He denied this, convincing me it was at the hands of Baal and no one else. I knew better, Wiley knew better too. It was my fault plain and simple.

The device was a nightmare but while Wiley wasn't being tortured I thrust myself into it, distracting my mind, falling into concentration which lead to frustration and then all that would be broken. A new hour would begin and with it Wiley would scream as torture touched him and broke him once more. Sometimes it felt like it had been years but in truth it was only our fourth day in Baal's hands. At least I was pretty sure it had only been four days, without my watch I had no real sense of time but since the planet had similar length of day as earth I had figured that we had spent three nights there already. It felt like so much longer.

There was a time I would've jumped head first into a new device, to discover how it operated, what it did, but now with that device all I saw was a reason for Wiley to be tortured, and I could barely bring myself to even try to do anything with it. I had hours and hours to think about how I couldn't help Wiley while I poured over the creators notes which had been partially translated for me. Everything was still very unclear but focusing seemed to feel easier. I knew that focus wouldn't last long, it would only take Wiley to be tortured and then my mind would be gone once more. I made small snippets of improvements, but only in my head. The problem with the device was the cloaking generator it was made of. I just didn't believe they were designed to cloak anything indefinably, like Baal wanted. The generator needed time to recharge and to do that it had to be shut off. I had so little knowledge of these systems that my mind was drawing a blank. Or maybe I was too full of worry to think of anything but Wiley. And maybe that explained the lack of escape plans I was having. I truly didn't even have a plan A for getting out of there. I was starting to feel that we would be there until I fixed the device or until Baal got tired of waiting and killed us both.

It was Wiley that gave me the idea. It was ironic how he was the one to suggest how to save himself, even if he wasn't aware of it. It was that night. He had been continuously pricked time and time again with that torture device and I had spent all day leaning over the consoles. The second we were alone in the cell I set about caring for the Captain, pushing all thoughts of the device away. I ripped my pant legs and jacket to make bandages for all Wiley's torture wounds. I cleaned the worst ones with our small amount of water and forced Wiley to drink the rest. He continued to shake as I helped him eat the stale food we had been for that day. As I sat with him waiting for him to fall asleep before I lay down to rest he struggled to speak.

"Major?" It was a rasp that was barely recognizable as Wiley's voice.

I pushed the soaked red hair away from his face. "Yes Wiley?" I asked, concerned.

"We aren't g-gonna g-get out of h-here a-are we?" He stuttered tiredly.

How was I supposed to answer? "Wiley don't you give up on me."

"Major, I-I'm t-tired. I k-know I'm not g-gonna m-make it. I've known a-all a-along. A-and I'm o-okay."

Tears stung at the back of my eyes. No way was he saying what he was saying. He couldn't be done, I needed him. "Wiley don't talk like that, please, I need you!"

"I can't fight anymore, but I know you can. Keep fighting Major, alright? Not for yourself but for him."

"Wiley what are you talking about?" I tried playing dumb. He continued the conversation anyway.

"You know who I'm talking about. You get out of this. And promise me you won't lie to yourself anymore."

I couldn't believe Wiley was telling me this. How could he know what I felt inside? "Wiley how do you know about-?" he cut me off.

"Everyone knows. Everyone can see. Don't lie anymore, Major. Please. I lost the love of my life because I was lying to myself, you don't want that. Major, please."

I nodded. This was his last plea and I was going to honour it. If I got out of this I wouldn't deny my feelings any longer. "Wiley you'll have your chance at love again I promise." I don't know why I said that, it just seemed right but in that moment we both believed it wasn't true. We both believed he wouldn't have that chance.

Wiley smirked but it turned into a cough. When finally he could speak again he surprised me by changing the subject. "I'm sorry Major, but with me gone there's no one to take my place, you'll be subject to what I've been going through."

Wiley was probably right. Without him there Baal would look for someone new to torture. It wouldn't be as cruel at first, but finally when Baal came to the realization that I wouldn't fix the device for him, he wouldn't hesitate to exhaust Wiley's level of suffering on me. And I would welcome it. I deserved it. I would replace Wiley and eventually I would be depleted too. That thought made it hit me! Of course! Why didn't I think of that before?

"Wiley you're a genius," I almost yelled. "You saved us, I know what to do." I was itching with excitement and slight relief. I knew what to do with the device. I knew how to save us. I was so caught up in my idea that I forgot all about Wiley's condition until he sputtered and threw up on the floor. I rolled him over and held him still as he finished. Once he had lain back down, looking as pale as ever, he spoke softly.

"I knew you would figure it out. Go save yourself. Remember your promise."

His face had the blank look of death and his chest heaved with great restriction. The tears welled and splashed to his face, providing the only variation in color on his pale and clammy skin. I was terrified as to what was happening. I could tell he was slipping away and I was scared.

"Wiley no, we came here together, we leave together," I cried on the verge of hysterics. He couldn't leave; it was hell to go through something like this alone. Complete and total hell.

"I'll still be with you Major, just in a different way."

"WILEY FIGHT IT! PLEASE FIGHT! I CAN GET US OUT OF HERE!" I yelled hoping that would scare away his demise. "Please," I whispered.

"I'll make you a deal Major," it was the weakest he had ever sounded and he spoke with his eyes closed. Each word took a huge effort. "I'll try and hold on, but I need to sleep and if it's not all over when I wake up, I don't want to wake up. Wake me up when it's over or don't wake me up at all."

I nodded. I had understood. The torture had destroyed his soul. He was ready for sleep, but he wanted to fight. His mind just couldn't handle that torture again. I understood. And I wanted to tell him when he woke up it would be over, but I couldn't. I didn't know that it would ever be over. I decided to let him sleep, I could only pray and hope that when I woke up he had found reason enough in his dreams to live on and to fight, but I had to accept that he could die that night and that the next day I would be fighting alone.

The adrenaline from realizing how to fix the device had faded and I dreaded the morning. I lay down. And I too only wanted to wake up if it was truly over. Otherwise I would rather not wake up at all.

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**Please review... it means so much! And don't worry we will see Jack again soon, if hes still alive. Muhahaha.**


	9. Chapter 9 Small Chances

**I hope I'm not boring you guys with these past few chapters… cuz to me they seem pretty boring… hopefully you don't think the same about them. Here is another chapter (yay!) for all you guys. Stay tuned to find out what happened to Jack (most likely the next chappie). I hope to post again soon. Thanks for all the reviews… look forward to more. I LOVE YOUR INPUT! So please don't be shy, please review and let me know what you think.**

**Disclaimer: don't own anything still.**

**Thanks, once again to my betas.**

Giving into Grief

9 Forever and Always

I was tired. I was so exhausted. I had no fight left in me. I didn't even struggle. I let them lead me down the corridors, down into the room where everything had happened. Wiley's torture. My failures. Everything. I let them push me towards the device. I got to work. It was difficult. I hadn't slept at all in the night, besides the few minutes I had gotten right after our conversation. I had stayed by Wiley's side, watching in fear, waiting for his chest to rise and fall for the last time. Waiting for his heart to make its final thump. Waiting for his last breath to escape his dry and chapped lips. Waiting, just waiting. Waiting for rescue. Waiting for hope. Waiting for a chance. Waiting for a miracle. There was none. At least that's what I thought. But when the light shone into our cell, revealing to me a new day had come, and Wiley still drew breath, I knew in a way a miracle had happened.

The scare of his death threw the situation into even sharper relief. He was alive, yes, but for how long? It was only a matter of time. He had made it through one more night, but there was no guarantee he would make it through another. He was laying there and he was dying. Time was ticking. His life was fading; there was nothing I could do. I had left him to sleep like he had asked. It was not over, I didn't have the heart to bring him back into the cruel world we were in and so I let him sleep, just as he had requested. I hoped that wasn't a mistake. I hoped I wouldn't go back to find him in that eternal rest, the rest he would welcome, the rest I feared for him.

And that's why although Wiley was alive and I was not alone, I felt as though we had already lost. The excitement of the night before, at least before Wiley had almost quit on me, was gone. I really felt like I couldn't do anything. I really felt like the battle was over. There was just no way to win.

The Jaffa seemed less cruel, or maybe I was just caring less about my treatment, in any case there was a definite upside to Wiley's condition. He was truly too weak to leave the cell. At least I assumed that was the reason he had been left behind, it was the one thing I could be glad about. He was laying on the cell floor, close to death as apposed to lying on the floor, dead, after a torture session his body could not take. I knew he wouldn't survive another punishment, but if he was able to stay in the cell, and if he willed himself to fight, there was a chance, at least that's what I told myself. It was a small comfort but it seemed far away and almost cold. I knew it was a small chance but I clung to it none the less.

It was the small chance that urged me to make the changes to the device Wiley had inspired me to come up with in the first place. It didn't take long to input the necessary power ratings and hook up a second generator. My theory was that if the first device had a twin they could take turns while the other recharged. I couldn't believe how simple it was. How could I not have thought of it earlier? Had I been trying to hard? Or not hard enough? I could see now why Baal would never have thought it up himself; far to simple and far to primitive.

The Jaffa had been easy to persuade. They brought me the generator device as soon as I had asked for it, like they had always had it on hand just waiting for me to request it. It was just an unmodified cloaking generator directly from a cargo ship, but with the notes from the devices creator I made the adjustments I thought necessary, and connected it to the first device and then I was ready.

As I was about to boot up the now twined device, a thought hit me. Where was "my god"? Where was Baal? Shouldn't he be there to see me give him what he had wanted all along? I turned to the Jaffa. "Where's Baal?" I asked coldly.

"He had urgent matters to attend too," the deep voice of the blonde Jaffa answered.

"And I thought I was an urgent matter," I scoffed loudly, mocking the Jaffa and feeling slightly better knowing Baal was possibly far away.

"He has dealings with another system lord on a distant planet," the other, black-haired Jaffa piped up. The first blonde Jaffa gave the second a look that said "shut up" and the black haired Jaffa looked down guiltily. He had told me something he shouldn't have and I thanked him silently. If Baal was really not on the planet then this was our chance. My mind swam with what this could mean. Was this the reason Wiley had fought through the night? Would this be our time to escape? I searched my mind, looking for any possible means of escape.

I would first have to disarm the two Jaffa, one of which still had the torture device in hand. Then I would have to go back for Wiley without running into any Jaffa. Then we just had to find the exit and get away before anyone noticed. With Wiley half dead and me, myself not doing so hot that could pose a bit of a problem. But we had to try if it was possible. Was it? _You've gotten away from worse situations_, I told myself. _Yes but he was always a part of it. The Colonel was always there._

_Is it really that different without him?_I argued with myself.

"Yes," I whispered aloud. The Jaffa gave me a look and I realized I had spoken not in my head, as I had meant to. I closed my mouth quickly. Yes, it was different. _He _had given me a sense of security. _You know why that is right, Samantha?_The voice in my head asked again. Every part of me knew the answer. Had always known the answer. Had never been willing to admit the answer. Had never been allowed to admit the answer. But now I could admit the answer. Now I had to admit the answer.

The answer was that I loved him. That was why it was different. I had loved himand because I had, I had trusted him without question and he had given me the security I had needed. And in those situations I had always known that if I was to die I would die with him there. That if we didn't escape we would have tried and failed together and together we would have met our end. I didn't have that now. I didn't have any of it and that was why it was impossible for me to believe we could really get away. That was why this whole time I hadn't seriously thought about a way to escape, I had always believed I couldn't escape without him there. I still believed that, but I had to get past it, I had to try because I now knew the reason behind my feelings and I had to explain that to him. I had to finally tell him, and myself the truth. No more lies. Not from me.

That was it, my decision was made. I didn't know how long it had taken my mind to reach the conclusion it had, but the Jaffa had become even more impatient. "Fix the device." the blonde one ordered.

"I'm working on it," I replied, trying to stall for time, thinking of ways to knock the Jaffa out.

"You said it was ready," the black haired Jaffa pointed out.

I swore under my breath. I needed more time. "I'm just checking the power levels to make sure there won't be an overload," I explained to the Jaffa. It was half true. I probably should've done that anyway.

"Baal wishes the device to be operational before his return or the other one dies. I would be more than willing to fulfill this order should you fail."

The Jaffa had gotten to me...again "Alright, alright." I sighed. So much for getting away. Somehow, once again, the threat of Wiley being killed, even with him already being so close to death, was terrifying. Even still, I hesitated to turn the dial that would fire up the device. I was giving up a chance to escape, but did I really have a choice? Had I taken too long to decide what to do? Would I have gotten Wiley out if I had acted the second I had learned Baal was away? I would never know now. We both would eventually die and _he_would never know I loved him. And I would never know what it was like to be loved by him. This was the end. Game over.

I had lost myself again in thoughts of him, but it was too late by the time I had snapped out of it. The blonde Jaffa had shoved me away and his hand was reaching for the dial. I tried to yell out but no sound could be heard over the roar of the device. The Jaffa had cranked it to one hundred percent. I had meant to test it at twenty percent. I ducked as far away as I could, but it was too late. There was a great explosion and several flashes of bright light. I felt like I was falling forever. I could see nothing but white. And finally there was a hard impact to my side, a sharp pain in my head. My vision faded slowly from white to black and then black turned into nothing and not a single part of my body had feeling. I was nothing, but I held onto the thought of Wiley and the thought of _him,_who I now knew I loved, as I drifted away. I was gone. Then I had feeling again. I felt dead. But I couldn't be dead if I felt it, could I? I didn't know what death was supposed to feel like or if you were supposed to feel it at all, but to me this felt like death. And if it was it was full of regret, regret that he would never know the truth and I would never know what it was like to tell it.

As I slipped away, that regret was all that flooded me and it was cold and unwelcome, but it was there and I could not stop it. _Good bye Jack, I love you._ The words were in my mind, but I hoped somehow, he would hear them wherever he was_. I love you. Forever and always._

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**Review pretty please, I need to know people are reading and hopefully enjoying my story.  
**


	10. Chapter 10 Numb Nothing

**Sorry it ended up being way too long since my last post! I really didnt mean to abandon you guys and in fact I have no good excuses, unless becoming addicted to the TV show E.R. counts as I good excuse. Yes i did nothing but watch ER for like 8 weeks (looking back i relieze how pathetic that was lol) but now my summer job finally started and my butt has been kicked back into gear. It`s weird how when you have nothing to do and nowhere to go you accomplish less extra stuff then if you have to go to work and stuff. Another reason I might have felt like writing is because my job is so darn boring that i have to find stuff to think about and my fanfic falls into a usefull thing to ponder on. So be thankful that I sit on a stool, staring at a conveyer belt full of cherries picking out the rotten ones for 8 to 10 hours a day, cuz it means i might be bringing you more chapters. Thats just so odd. Haha. Anyhoo I have finally brought you this chappie and guess who is in it? Yup we finally get to see Jack again! So I won'****t keep you from reading any longer…..**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything or anyone except for Wiley.**

**Once again thanks to my betas.**

**Giving into Grief**

**Chapter 10 Numb Nothing**

I was numb. Numb and surrounded by a cloud of nothing. Nothing was there. I couldn't describe what I felt in any word. It was all just nothing. There was not a sensation in my body, I couldn't feel a breath enter my lungs nor could I recall anything at all. But oddly enough none of these things worried me. I was content. I had never been so at ease. I wasn't scared that I couldn't feel, breathe or move nor did I worry about getting away from the numbness that steadily continued to encompass me. I was fine right where I was. I wasn't able to be scared; it wasn't possible in that place. Everything was okay and I could feel the safety surrounding me. I never wanted to be anywhere but there. I liked that perfect nothing.

Slowly, little by little, nothing started to feel like something. I began to become aware of my body and each breath I took filled the previously perfect silence of the vast void. The numbness I had welcomed started to fade and eventually it faded almost completely. I was being ripped from the world I had wished to stay in forever. I felt naked and cold. I felt vulnerable and weak. I could feel feeling again. That place was all but gone. I was somewhere else now, but where I wasn't sure. I hoped it was as welcoming as the place I had just left behind.

It wasn't. It was reality, although I didn't know it at first.

The first few minutes felt much like the ones I had cherished in the other place. I was confused and numb. Eventually for some reason my eyelids felt the need to swing open and despite fighting them I eventually gave in and let them see. What was left of the sweet similar warmth disappeared, leaving me feeling cold, alone and blinded by the bright lights overhead. There was an awful beeping noise that made my head buzz and my ears ring. I was still numb but now I could feel and it felt as if I was worse off then I had been in the previous enjoyable minutes.

I could see everything in front of my eyes, but the trouble was everything I could see was blurry. I blinked. No better. I quit trying to see, seeing was overrated anyway. Instead I tried to speak. My throat was raw and dry. I swallowed and tried again. "H-hello?"

Someone must have heard the small squeak I had uttered because someone grabbed my arm and spoke my name. "Jack!"

I recognized the voice at once, which was odd because I couldn't seem to recall anything else. "Daniel," I said in a barely audible answer. "What happened?" I groaned in confusion. I really still couldn't feel a thing.

"You don't remember anything."

Of course I didn't! If I did would I really have asked what happened! I didn't have the energy to make that smart ass reply so I merely shook my head. "No," I whispered hoarsely. My mouth was beyond dry, I swallowed hard, hoping to ease the roughness in the back of my throat. The saliva slid down but did nothing to ease the lumpy feeling. "Water." I choked out.

Daniel held the straw and I took a sip of the cool liquid, nodded my thanks as I swallowed. Once he pulled away the cup I raised my eyebrows and Daniel knew I wanted my answers and I wanted them now!

"What's the last thing you remember?" he asked cautiously. His expression was starting to worry me as was the sad look in his eyes. I wracked my brain for the answer to Daniel's question and found that everything was still very unclear. I looked harder and amongst the fuzzy images and ideas I found something. A face. A woman's face. Shining blonde hair, bright blue eyes and a gorgeous smile. I could not recall who she was, only that I knew her. Not knowing who she was only added to the numb unknowingness I already felt and I wanted answers all the more. "A woman," I crackled out slowly. "Blonde hair, blue eyes... Smile." I was beginning to feel very tired but snapped myself back to attention, waiting for Daniel's information filled reply.

He didn't reply. Not for a long time. He merely continued to give me a very sorrowful stare down. He seemed deep in thought and very unsure of what to do. I had only said what I remembered, that was what he had asked. I remembered a woman, blonde hair, blue eyes and a smile. Nothing else came to mind but the image of her. Not a name or how I knew her. Just her face, her beautiful perfect face etched in my brain, stuck in front of my eyes. I closed my lids and her picture became clearer and more vivid. I didn't even really feel the need to know anything about her. I was content to just see her face and let it fill me with ease.

"She's dead Jack," An abrupt voice ripped the image away. I opened my eyes to see that Daniel was the owner of the voice. For a second I was angry at him for taking away the image and then he spoke again and this time I really heard his words. "She's dead Jack," he chocked with a voice full of emotion. "She's gone," he whispered.

I knew it. I had known it. I had known the moment she had crossed my mind, yet at the same time I hadn't. I hadn't wanted to I guess. "Gone?" I whispered coming to terms with it myself and trying to picture the dead version of the perfect face, but I could not and did not want too.

"Yeah, she's gone. Sam's gone.

Sam. That stirred something in me. A fire. A bad want. A horrible anger. It ripped me in half. The name spoken aloud stopped my heart. It made me bubble and writhe. It made me sit bolt up but most of all it made more feelings consume what was left of me. It made me feel her absence. It made me feel loss. It made me feel my love and it made me feel the way I had felt before. Lost. I was lost, I had been and I still was.

Sam, Samantha, Carter, Major, Sam. Sam. It was her. It was her. Her.

I lost it. I didn't know if I had ever had it, but if I had it was all gone now. There was no way she could be dead, not when I loved her so much, she just couldn't be gone. But she was. But she couldn't be. I wouldn't believe it I felt so odd as if there were two of me fighting for control of my body. One part believed her death and the other, bigger part denied it with my whole being. I panicked and in my confusion, anger and aggregation I literally flung myself from the bed trying to get away from the mania that had taken me so suddenly at the mere mention of a name. Her name. Sam.

I felt physical pain for the first time as I hit the floor. I welcomed the sensation. I tried to crawl but by now Daniel had pounced, holding me down and calling for reinforcements. I struggled against him and against his advisements, I fought my hardest. I didn't know the words I was screaming out but I knew I had to go. I had to see her to believe her death. I just needed to do something I didn't even know what it was. I just wanted to escape. I wanted to go back before I had remembered the pain her death had caused.

"Jack calm down," Daniel yelled over my loud screams.

"NO, SHE'S NOT DEAD! SHE'S NOT DEAD!" I yelled at a deafening pitch. I think that I truly believed she wasn't gone. That I believed the words I spoke were one hundred percent true. That she wasn't gone. I made up my mind I wasn't going accept anything anyone told me, because they were wrong.

The cavalry arrived moments later and Daniel was still struggling to hold me to the floor. It wasn't a most uncomfortable position he had me in but it had kept me in place so I guess in the end Daniel had won and again I had lost. Doc Frasier inspected me right there on the floor as I continued my verbal expression of my feelings. She shot me full of drugs…. sedatives probably as they made me drowsy and unable to continue my fight. She asked Daniel what happened as he and Teal'c, who had arrived with the doctor, lifted me back to the bed I had fled. "He panicked when I mentioned Sam," Daniel told the doctor, sadly.

Doc gave me a sad look as she continued her examination. "He tore his stitches, We better get him into restraints so I can fix him up and in case he tries that again after the sedatives wear off," she stated. I tried to struggle against the bonds they were strapping me into but I was just too tired and numb.

"No. No restraints," I mumbled, tiredly. I didn't need restraints, I wasn't crazy!

"We have to ensure you do not attempt to harm yourself again, O'Neill," Teal'c remarked as gently as a jaffa could.

Again? What was he talking about?

"Wha?" I chocked out, confused as they tied me down tightly to the hospital bed and Frasier got to work on my leg.

Everyone looked at Daniel in question, even Frasier looked up from shooting my leg full of yet more meds. "He said he didn't remember anything," Daniel explained, staring down at me sadly.

I wished everyone would stop looking at me like that. I wasn't a nutcase I just was hurt and in mental pain, affliction and denial. I was just upset. I wasn't crazy!

He doesn't know how he got hurt?" the doc asked Daniel.

No." Daniel and I answered at the same time. "How?" I questioned, groggily.

They all exchanged looks that made me almost not want to know what happened, almost like I wished I hadn't learned of her death…. Again. Finally Doctor Frasier was the one to take a deep breath and be the first helpful soul I had come across since waking up. I still didn't know if I really wanted to know, from the way everyone was acting, it couldn't be good, but I felt myself fading, thanks to the sedatives and I decided I mind as well hear while someone was willing to give an explanation.

"You were shot in the leg twice and the shoulder once," she explained bluntly, yet in her gentle Doctor manner, all while she carefully re-stitched my leg. I grimaced. "You were in surgery for six hours getting some arteries fixed up."

"Your condition had us all extremely concerned," Teal'c added seriously.

"You nearly died, Jack! Why would you do something like that?" Daniel pretty much yelled. I must say I much preferred the way doc Frasier was talking to me compared to the cranky archaeologist.

"Like what? It's not like I'm the one who shot me." I replied tiredly, failing to smirk due to tiredness. It had been a joke to ease the seriousness of the situation, but the moment the words had passed my lips every memory, every little detail of that night came floating back. I knew why I had done it and did I regret it? No. But they wouldn't understand they wouldn't get it. They didn't care.

They gave each other worried looks as they saw that I had remembered. They stared at me waiting for an answer, I gave them none. I couldn't bring to words the reason behind what I had done. I opened and closed my mouth, unsure hoe to take the realization. Unsure what do or say. They waited for me to find what I wanted to say, but I never did. Eventually Frasier said enough was enough and gave me the little bit more sedative I needed to fall into numbness again. I was left alone to sleep and to drown in pain killers and my own thoughts, thoughts of her, thoughts which were slowly suffocating me. What a pleasant way to fall asleep. What a pleasant way to live.


	11. Chapter 11 The Imposter

**I'm back! Yay for boring cherries as my job! Although it has improved some, since i sometimes get to go to the cold room where i sweep cherries into bags and boxes. Here is a****nother Jack chapter, but I will have a Sam chapter coming up soon thanks to my sister pestering me and asking for another Sam chappie. I'm hoping ill be updating regularly again, fingers crossed. Thanks to all that reviewed. There is nothing better then waking up with the looming knowledge that you'll be staring at cherries all day long to find that a review is waiting for you, it makes me so happy and is a great start to the day! So thank you all!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own anything.**

**Thank you betas!**

Giving into Grief

Chapter 11

I didn't feel quite the same when I woke for the second time. I was not in a comfortable place, where everything could be denied, and I couldn't truly feel anything. I was Jack O'Neill. I was strapped to a bed. I was injured by my own hand and with my own weapon. And I was grieving.

I had woken immediately feeling the grief of her death. I no longer denied it. That didn't mean I accepted it. It just meant I had woken knowing what was real, but at the same time I knew I would never be the same again. Her death had taken what I was or at least a good portion of what I was. I sat in the hospital bed and I felt a different kind of numbness then I had before. I was drowning in my thoughts, wallowing in my grief and pain. I did not request the restraints be removed when doc Frasier came to check on me. I had no need to be free of them. There was nothing else for me to do than sit there and stare into space and imagine how things could've been had stubbornness and fate not intervened. I wondered if I had been there, could I have kept her from dying. Or had her fate been for a reason? To make me finally realize I loved her? Why? It didn't matter now. There was no point. I had no purpose anymore. It was as if loving her in secret had become my life and now it was over. I hated her death. I hated myself for letting my feelings stay under the surface for so long. I hated the infirmary. I hated the grief. I hated the pity. I hated being dead not in body but only in heart. I hated...everything.

The only thing I had done after the long sedative induced sleep was to sit, not moving, barely breathing, ceasing to live except in mind. My body didn't move an inch except my eyelids which occasionally blinked but only because my brain told them to against my will. I sat there alive in mind and not body wishing things had been different, blaming myself for everything and wondering why I should even be alive. I had a heart that should no longer beat, yet it still pounded steadily.

Daniel sat with me all day, he never left my side. I didn't know why. I acted like he wasn't there. He wasn't helpful to me. He didn't talk about my gun incident, which I wanted them to discuss with me. I was just waiting for someone to say the word. The S-word. Suicidal. I wanted them to say it; I knew they were all thinking of it when they looked at me. Jack O'Neill, suicide attempt. That's what I wanted them to say, just so I could agree.

Another thing Daniel never spoke of in all those hours was her. Sam. He had learned from the incident that had required me to be restrained in the first place, that he should avoid the subject. I didn't want to talk about her either, but at the same time I couldn't hear anything else Daniel said for she was all that was on my mind. Sam.

Finally Daniel could avoid the subject no longer; I know he could see his one way conversation about who knows what was getting nowhere. I was staring at the blank gray infirmary walls, seeing her in my mind, feeling the pain of her loss once again, the pain that I had tried to rid myself of, when finally Daniel spoke a sentence that I heard. The words he said had nothing to do with her, but I fell away from the cling I had to the traces of her in my mind and listened. He was talking about me. I was stubborn and didn't want to hear but my ears were open and I could not stop them from their purpose.

"Your not dying Jack, snap out of it! Janet says you're out of the woods." Daniel said in desperation to make me reply.

"Well what if I want to be in the woods?" It was my voice that had spoken, though I did not recognize it as my own. I had snapped without intention. Saying something had caused me to break away from my desperate attempts to avoid the real world, to stay in the place where I could drown in my hopes, dreams and memories of her. Now that I was broken from my delusional trance, her death felt cold all over again and I felt the grief that I had tried to run from that night.

I could see that Daniel was trying to ignore the comment I had made. He continued the subject of my condition, just as I knew he would. "She also said you will probably recover completely though there is a chance you'll end up with a limp." He pointed to my leg and I looked down at the lump under the blanket, sniffing.

"Well wonderful I'll just go limp off a cliff," I stated coldly. Somehow I didn't feel like I was really there, like someone else was controlling my speech and I was powerless to control what came out of my mouth. It was so easy for that imposter to announce that I was not ready to live and probably never would be.

That imposter wanted everyone to know what her death was doing to me, when all I wanted to do was keep sane by being with the Sam in my head and forgetting about everything else. The imposter wanted everyone to know how minuscule what I had fallen into made their level of grieving seem. I wanted them to see how much I cared and how little they really did, but all I wanted to do was hide away in the comforting sanctuary where everything was just as I wanted.

Still Daniel avoided the direct subject of suicide and continued to tell me my diagnosis. "With physiotherapy your arm should be fine too."

The imposter whom I had tried to silence continued. "Well isn't that nice, in the mean time I'm dying!" the imposter could not be silenced and was ignoring my attempts to shut it up. I was being pulled apart inside, even more than I already had been.

"I already told you, you are going to be fine, Jack!" Daniel repeated desperately.

"You don't understand, I will never be fine," the imposter huffed before I finally regained control and set my eyes forward again. My mind went back to the image of her, which had faded slightly. I was losing her in my head too. I couldn't let that happen. I focused harder, so hard my brain hurt and I couldn't see anything in the room anymore. I feel back to my silent, unmoving, brain wracking grief.

"We're gonna get you through this Jack," Daniel said before I was completely back into my bubble of loss. "We are gonna get you through this," He assured me.

He didn't understand. I didn't want to get through this. I didn't want to let go of the little bit of her I still had, the part that hadn't been taken by the world outside.

"YOU ARE ONE STUPID, SELFISH SON OF A BITCH!"

I was so lost that I hadn't noticed the new visitor until they had spoken, none to kindly and in such an angry voice, I was snapped out of my reverie in a second.

I squinted at the figure. The visitor. Sam? It couldn't be. Samantha. Carter. Carter. Carter. Jacob!

Please review, more reviews=more chapters….. please, please, please let me know what you think.

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**Review please! They are a wonderful thing to come home to after 12 hour days!**


	12. Chapter 12 The Game Changes

Blah, don't you hate when school and everyday life get in the way of the important things (fanfic, Stargate, Sanctuary, ER, you know the good stuff in life!) Anyhoo I'm back and free of cherries... though it turn out to be an amazing and fun experience. I am now free and clear to write for you except for the few glaring annoyances noted above. I have another chapter almost ready to go so depending on reviews for this one it shouldn't be to long. Hint, hint. Seriously though, please review you have no idea how much it helps to hear from y'all.

Thank you once again to my amazing beta and sister.

Disclaimer: Once again I do not own anything.

And we're walking!

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Gig 12 The Game Changes

In an instant of bright white light everything changed. Every part of the game Baal was playing was destroyed. Every play he had up his sleeve was shattered by my one action. One action that not only became his downfall but mine as well. It wasn't just another bump in the road of Baal's challenging highway. It wasn't something I could work through; it was a real journey's end. Game over! The end. Goodbye! And all because of one mistake, one stupid mistake that amazingly left Wiley better off than I was. That took away something important, something I never thought I'd loose. And with the loss of something so important how could I not surrender the last of the fire in me? That fire of longing hope to return home. A flame, that had been dimming since the beginning and was now all but extinguished. All because of one instant. One second. One mistake. A blink of an eye and my world was turned upside down. My life became forfeit. I was done.

I wasn't aware, upon first waking up from unconsciousness, of the increase in the peril placed before me. To me it was an enclosure of darkness. Pitch beyond the blackest of black and without a shadow in sight. Nothing but a ray-less and unknowing void was before my eyes. I should've known then, I should've clued in, but no, I didn't even consider the possibility...

After initially assessing my surroundings; the completely un-illuminated atmosphere, with really nothing to assess besides the dark, I moved on to the screams of pain my body was suddenly prisoner to.

A dull pounding in my head turned into a full-blown throbbing and many parts of my body ached with what felt like bruises and cuts, but none of this compared with the searing pain I now felt flowing from my arm sockets. I looked to see what restrained them but it did no good, it was still dark everywhere I looked. It was then that I began to panic as I pulled and pulled at the chains that held my feeling-less limbs above my head. I felt sick as I struggled, intense panic increasing the more I tried to get free. At last I gave up due to physical exhaustion and to the fact that I threw up all over the floor. I could smell the warm stink of my own sick sitting at my feet, the taste of it still in my mouth.

By that point I was too out of it to take notice of the increasing sharp pains behind my eyes. I could feel myself drifting away. I could no longer be bothered by the pain in every part of my body or the fear in the back of my mind.

Things took a turn for the worse after that, if it were even possible; but if anything were to make circumstances beyond the hell I was already in, it would have to be Baal, hands down.

Lucky for me things were still in the category of hell because Baal, along with everything else, was nowhere to be seen among the same eerie darkness. Weirdly, and just for a moment, I kind of welcomed the darkness as it made me feel alone and almost safe in an odd way. That is until the silence was broken and the pitch black felt cold and unpredictable again.

"I see you're awake," a deep voice floated through the vast sightlessness.

It was Baal. I was now past the very edge of hell; I was in such agony and mental exhaustion that it couldn't be put into any other terms. Worse than hell. Worse than hell. Worse than death. Worse than hell. I chanted silently.

"Not much to wake to is it?" he drawled.

I squinted in the direction that I thought the voice was coming from; but despite concentrating hard I still could not see a thing.

"It's dark isn't it?" Baal asked, his tone strongly amused and satisfied, taunting even.

I pulled at the chains out of desperation, doing nothing to free myself, the clinging of the chains only making my head hurt and pound more furiously and my stomach feel sick again.

"Terrifying isn't it?" Baal's tantalizing voice filled me with nothing but uncertainty and fear. "Nothing but the blackness to fill your sight."

I had an uneasy feeling that something horribly obvious was going on, and after another teasing minute, Baal confirmed my suspicion. "You have earned what you deserve for sabotaging my outpost, but you have cost me two of my best Jaffa. Therefore the absence of your sight is not enough to compensate for what you have cost me."

Those words made my limbs feel strangely numb and disowned from my body. I felt sick again. My head pounded harder than ever. The absence of my sight? And finally it hit me. I should've realized hours earlier. I should have recognized the abnormality of the darkness. I should've caught on sooner. I should've figured it out. My sight was gone. I was blind! Oh God I was blind! I couldn't breathe, I was blind! How on Earth had that happened? What was going on?

I must have presented with a very shocked look on my face because Baal chuckled and sneered once again. "You hadn't realized." he outright laughed, a deep crackle of pure pleasure to my obliviousness. "Well this truly is amusing! Too smart to figure out you're blind. Well done." he clapped and through the darkness it echoed to my ears.

My heart raced. I felt like I was being suffocated. I panicked but I couldn't comprehend what this new level of hell meant or what it would bring and frankly I was past the point of caring and anyway it really didn't matter. I was dead anyway.

Baal confirmed this when his voice boomed through the darkness again. "However amusing this is, I must move on to more important matters." You have given me a great setback and made me more susceptible to attack on this planet. Do not worry, I shall remain here long enough to see that you paid for what you have done and for the two Jaffa your immature actions cost me."

My eyes were hot at the back and every part of my body ached with a new severity. I couldn't see a thing but I could feel Baal's evil glare in my direction and I heard the swish of his robes as he drew nearer. Even with these indications I was a complete alien to a blind man's world, and did not expect the sudden on-set of torture from the device that had previously scorched Wiley so many times. It was pain beyond pain. Hell beyond hell. It was a deep want for relief, for death. I could feel the orange glow that came out of my mouth when I screamed and the light flowing from my eye sockets that burned at my damaged eyes. I couldn't believe how severe a torture it was. I was in such pain I felt like I was on the brink of death when finally Baal pulled the torture device away. Within seconds I was unconscious from the pain, with my eyes damaged, my soul dead and my life forfeit.

Again and again Baal inflicted the torture on me. Again and again I passed out and woke up and faced it again. I lost count of how many times I endured it. I forgot all things. I even forgot I was blind. I just hung there, unable to move, accepting the severity of my punishment. Death not quite in reach and only pain within arms grasp.

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Please, please don't shoot me I want to live! I'm sorry I had to do that to Sam but it's all part of the plan ;)

My sister, also my beta, says I am evil lol for doing that to poor, poor Sammy. Please review (hopefully not to say how much you hate me for being even more cruel to Sam) and let me know if you are enjoying the story.


	13. Chapter 13 Defeated by a Lonely Heart

**Hiya ****all! ****I****'****m ****BACK! ****Here ****we ****go ****with ****another ****chapter****… ****I ****promise ****things ****will ****pick ****up ****in ****the ****next ****few ****instalments, ****which ****will ****hopefully ****be ****posted very ****soon. ****It****'****s ****kinda ****a ****crazy ****time ****of ****year, ****so ****we****'****ll ****see ****how ****much ****I ****get ****done****. ****Anyhoo****… ****I ****hope ****y****'****all ****enjoy ****this ****one ****;****)**

**Once ****again ****my ****wonderful ****Beta ****is ****doing ****an ****amazing ****job! ****Luv ****ya ****sis! **

**Disclaimer: I still own nothing.**

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Gig 13 Defeated by a Lonely Heart

Looking into her eyes I could see what she meant to me. Her smile searched me like a lighthouse in a storm and it warmed my heart. I was at peace. I was taken by her. But as she captured my heart, and the loneliness of my soul faded, she began to fade as well and float like a ghost away into the dark. She was dancing slowly in front of my eyes, teasing my senses and my heart. Suddenly she was screaming in agony and I couldn't watch as her body literally shattered into pieces, falling away like dust right before me, but at the same time I could not close myself off from her, I could not look away, not when she was so close, not when she took the place of the lonely in my heart. The lonely that replaced her, but would never be her. The lonely that would remain dancing around my head, giving me glimpses of her that taunted me, reminding of what was gone and could not be gotten back. Ever...

I woke, sweating. Pins and needles everywhere, head aching, heart beating hard. I closed my eyes trying as hard as I could to forget the Sam I had seen in my dream and remember the real one. No matter how hard I tried I could not find any picture of her in my mind besides the recent scare. I tried to blind her from my thoughts, but it was impossibly useless. Her agonies, her high pitched screams of death were etched in my head and no other thought would replace the horrors of that nightmare. It would haunt me forever, following me everywhere I went.

It seemed impossible, but after that I think I was starting to accept her death at least to some degree. I knew it would take an eternity to forget completely and I would always have the scars to remind me I would never heal from this, but I was past the numbness, past the denial, past the panic, past the unwavering dismissal of the existence of a world outside my head. I was still grieving, but oddly I was starting to feel a bit better. Like a wound that had scabbed over... Now all I had to do was wait for someone to come and scratch the surface again and open the wound all over again, with double the pain and sting, opening opportunity for a bigger scar to remind me...

I was completely freaked out by myself, I was scared of myself. I was thinking rationally, I knew the drugs were putting me out of my mind but at the time it felt kind of good to be able to escape. I welcomed the ability to forget for a while. I was doing well. Daniel and I had an afternoon conversation that did not finish with me yelling insanely I hadn't thought her name in three full hours.

At dinner time I was released from my restraints and a nurse brought a tray. Daniel told me he was gonna sit with me while I ate and I agreed that would be fine. was thankful for the company, it kept me from thinking about the Sam in my dream, and in other words, it kept me sane. That changed sanity was thrown into reverse the second I looked at my tray. For in the spot above to the mashed potatoes and next to the peas was a neat lump of... blue jello. It cut like a knife the same second I saw the wiggly desert. The tears began falling the second after as I remembered her. The real her, the one I missed, the one I wanted in place of the lonely in my heart.

Daniel had no idea what was going on as I just stared and cried. Not tearing; crying like a baby. I had broken the barrier of grief at last and I was admitting defeat. Real defeat, not denial, defeat. I couldn't live without her and so I was defeated by a lonely heart. I was calm in my defeat, staring silently at the tray, tears steadily streaking my cheeks, as they would forever more.

Nature intervened and the tears stopped and I stared, not in a daydream trance like before, but at the blue jello, just thinking of her. Not of her death, not her in my dreams and nightmares, but her in good times: all the times she had laughed and smiled over a dish of blue jello. All the times we had fooled around in the commissary. All the times we consoled each other in tough situations…

"Jack?" Daniel was tentative and careful when he finally spoke, trying to ask more with his eyes than his voice.

I locked his gaze and shook my head slightly, sadly.

"What is it?" Daniel asked. I could tell he was deeply concerned, but also relieved that I wasn't blowing up and instead seemed genuinely sad.

I pointed at the blue jello and uttered four quiet words. "It was her favourite."

Daniels eyes went wide and then closed momentarily. He stood up slowly as if unsure of what to do. "Do-," he cleared his throat, still unsure, he gently put his hands out in front of me, motioning at the tray of untouched food. "Do you want me to take it away?"

Did I? I wasn't sure but in the end it was too much to see the blue jello and no Sam to go with it, I nodded slowly, feeling drunk with straight sadness. Daniel left the room with the tray in his hands.

It was while Daniel was gone the visitor from before arrived again. "Jacob," I greeted slowly and tiredly, surprising myself when I waved to him.

"Jack." he nodded, reaching my bed.

"You left before," I frowned; confusion seemed to be building up inside me.

"Well when someone yells at you to leave or they will cut your guts out and make a salad with them, you tend to make a bolt for the doorway."

I frowned. "I only remember you yelling," I said slowly with groggy words.

"Let's just say it was a mutual conversation of strong words, anger and vocal volume." Jacob said with a slight smirk.

"I don't remember," I repeated.

"Doc Frazier had to drug you pretty good afterwards. How are you feeling now?"

"Weird but good," I said with the very slightest of smiles. I thought back to the blue jello and how it made me feel sad, but in a helpful way. "I feel like I'm improving." It wasn't a lie. I did feel something but I wasn't sure what it was just yet. I felt better but I wasn't sure it was improvement, as Jacob had just said, I was still doped up pretty good.

Jacob sat down on Daniel's stool and said nothing. "I'm trying to remember what you said before..." I started when finally I could no longer leave the building silence.

"I'm not sure it's best right now with you doing so well."

"Jacob. If you said it to me once you can say it again," I reasoned.

He gave me a 'you have a good point' look and opened his mouth to speak. "I was saying how you were a stupid, selfish S.O.B. And at the time you were."

"Am I not anymore?" I asked, wondering where this conversation was going.

"When you decided that you were going to kill yourself, yes you were." He looked at me sternly. You were stupid for obvious reasons and you were a S.O.B. for equally obvious reasons."

"And the selfishness?" I was intrigued now, greatly interested in Jacobs point and I didn't even mind the name calling.

"When you decided to kill yourself there was only one person in your mind."

"Sam!" I jumped in.

Jacob shook his head sadly. "You."

I frowned at the old Tok'ra.

"When you decided to kill yourself you didn't stop to think what that would do to Daniel, or Teal'c, or General Hammond, or Doctor Frasier and even me, because you were only thinking about how much Jack O'Neill was suffering. Think about Daniel and Teal'c they already lost one team member and you almost made it two! But I bet you neither of them would have been suicidal even after that. General Hammond and Frasier would have lost two of their bests friends and colleagues and I bet you neither of them would have tried to kill themselves. And me! I lost my daughter and someone who is as good as a son almost killed himself because of it."

"What's your point?" I snapped. I suddenly felt very angry, much like I had before.

"My point? My point is did you ever consider what your death would do, what it would add to the hurt of losing Sam?"

I sobbed at her name. Jacob noticed, but said nothing.

"You hurt a lot of people by hurting yourself, you added a lot of grief, you created a lot of worry that people don't need right now and for what? To make Jack O'Neill, the soul person in the universe, feel better. Sam is dead Jack!"

"You think I don't know that? You think you know how I feel?" I snapped, the imposter had made a recurring visit.

"No I don't know how you feel, but I know how you should feel."

"And how should I feel"

"You need to figure that out yourself and if you don't, you have no reason to live."

"What I great chat Jacob? Are you done, or do you have more overpoweringly helpful advice to share?" the imposter was on a rampage.

"Sam would have moved on, she wouldn't want you to live like this, not because of her. Leave her conscious clear, don't do this over her, find another reason to wallow in despair or don't despair at all, but don't do this because of her, she wouldn't want that for you. If you loved her as she loved you than you will do as she would and move on!"

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**You know what to do! Review, review, review! Thanks for reading!**


	14. Chapter 14 Finding a Reason

**My Dearest Readers! Dearly beloved we are gathered here today to celebrate a NEW CHAPTER! Yes! It lives! I am back! I feel terrible for abandoning y'all for so long but I have a few good reasons for not posting and I totally understand now how fan fiction gets put on the back-burner My life has been crazy since I last posted, including a trip, school, work, and major hip surgery! Yes, I am a teenager and I had hip surgery! But I made it through and I am here now, posting, FINALLY! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate SG1 or any of it's characters.**

**Thanks to my betas once again. **

**And we're walking!**

Chapter 14 Finding a Reason

How should I feel? I asked myself. If I was someone else I would tell them to move on, but I wasn't someone else I was Jack and I was without Sam, yet Jacob had gotten to me. I tried to clear my mind of this thought but the feeling stayed in my mind. I considered it even if every part of me didn't want to. Move on? A question planted in my mind. I pondered for a moment. Move on? How could I? How could I move on? After everything I had done to keep the pain of losing her at bay. After trying hard to let her go only to find myself clinging to her more and more and less and less to the real world and to the few people in it who still cared.

Even ole doc Frasier had abandoned her watchful post and gone with the others, taking a break from the pain in the ass that I had become. My only company was my security guard. Yeah, because I needed one of those, and he only put up with me for so long because it was his responsibility.

I sat in silence watching him, looking for anything to criticize about his stance, his attention towards his duty. He gave me no error and I was disappointed. I needed to yell at someone again, get my frustration out for the hundredth time. Feel alive for one more second.

Dead. If there was one word I would use to describe myself, as I sat unmoving, that's what it would be; dead, but alive. Alive in body, dead in soul, that is what her absence had left me with. Her death had destroyed who I was, what I was. She had been everything in my life and I had never realized how much I needed her.

A single tear fell down my face. I was tired of the tears, tired of the pain; tired of it all, tired of not knowing.

How? How could I move on? I'd given into the idea that I could never live without her. But could I? Could I really move on? Her father had told me too. But how did he know I could? I was confused in myself. Drowning in thoughts, in possibilities, far too many possibilities...

My head felt like it was about to explode with the extreme pressure that each possibility, each "dream" brought to the barriers of my skull. My heart pulled at my chest in large thuds, I tried to catch the breath that wasn't in my lungs as my mind searched too far, finally arriving at the thought that had been at the back of my head, the feeling in the bottom of my heart, ever since that day. The question I had subconsciously discarded until now…

It finally arrived as a last resort.

No. Shooting myself had not been far enough.

This one thought, five words, another five fateful words, this was the final action to decide my fate in all this, my life or my death. And it had to be life; physical death had laughed me in the face and walked away. There was no other answer, no other question. Nothing else to cling to…nothing.

"What if she isn't dead?"

That one sentence of five simple words had kept me from moving on all this time. It wasn't just that I didn't accept her death, it was my shattered heart telling me that there was no way it would be beating if her heart was dry of blood, her lungs squeezed of air and her smile lost for good.

She was alive. I knew it. I just knew. I was alive, if I was still breathing so was she. There wouldn't be me without her...

And I understood now. Why I had been fighting inside myself. I had known all along. My heart had been screaming this whole time, yet my brain had been telling it something else entirely. I had been torn and now finally, for the first time I was realizing that ever since I met Samantha Carter our lives were forever tied together by a love that neither of us could ever explain nor comprehend. Everything was so clear and I just knew she was alive. I just knew it... We were both survivors from death.

This thought was burned into my head and I couldn't shake it. She was vivid and alive in my eyes; I just needed to find her. Bring her back and tell her what I should have a long time ago. Tell her what she means to me. Kiss her till she melts. Love her to the end of the world…..forever.

I had to do something. I thought about my options. Tell someone about my… what was it anyway? Vision? Feeling? Inkling? Instinct? Dream? How did I really know this wasn't me being completely insane? The others wouldn't put insanity passed me and frankly I wouldn't blame them. What was I supposed to say to make them understand? Convince them I just had this feeling; now let's go to a planet where apparently two of our people got killed. No, that was the way to earn myself a one way trip to a padded room and be the test driver of my very own free of charge straight jacket.

I needed a plan that excluded all other sorry beings in my quest for her. Not just finding her, but finding her alive and well. I had to do this alone. Follow my heart... I had to find out for myself and by myself. I needed to seek my own conformation to finally be at ease.

I glanced around the room, looking at my options and visualizing what it would take.

I would have to get a weapon for sure; I wasn't stupid enough to go to another planet without one. I would have to escape the confines of the infirmary. Then I would have to dial the gate and go through without anyone noticing.

Soon my plan was formulated. I put it into action immediately. "Hey man, can I get a doctor in here, I can't feel my leg." I hoped I was believable and that I had my guard convinced. My performance wasn't perfect, in fact, I wasn't sure I even believed it, but there was genuine pain in my voice; enough to send the guard out of the room to find Frasier

I figured I only had about a minute before my buddy came bounding back. I didn't think about what I was about to do; I knew if I did I would have second thoughts. There wasn't a doubt I could afford at that point. I had to know myself, and I had to find out alone. I couldn't ask for anyone's help. 

The pain was more unbearable than I thought it would be, my leg buckled before I had even stepped fully onto the floor. It complained in stinging agony about the grief I was giving it. I didn't care; I would gladly give my whole leg just to know her true fate, to see for myself that she was alive or go to the planet and find the spot where she had perished, to locate her body and lay with her until the stars died out. I had to find her; whether I found her dead or whether I achieved the proof I needed to accept her death. It didn't matter I just needed to know…

Just before I hit the floor I was able to grab hold of my IV stand and drag myself up its neck. I used it as a sort of crutch, limping and tripping my way to the door, dragging the stand as I went. I leaned against the wall and there I waited, holding my breath.

I bit my tongue as the pain worsened, my leg complaining about being used when it clearly wasn't ready, warm blood filled my mouth with metallic taste. Up until then I had forgotten about my arm and now I noticed how it throbbed in complaint. I didn't care that I was damaging myself, I only wanted to see for sure that she was dead; something I should've done in the first place. I didn't know how I ever believed a word that had been said. How could she be dead? She just couldn't; she was far too strong.

Footsteps sounded nearer and I winced as I straightened my body, but still it doubled over in pain and I fought the nausea and dizziness that came with the intense sting. My hand gripped the cool metal of the IV stand as I wobbled in place, fighting for balance. I took a deep breath and swung once. Doctor Frasier fell to the floor of the doorway and I followed her to the ground a second later. I banged my good fist to the floor in frustration as I swore at my own weakness and pain. A terrible throbbing shot to every part of my body and I fought unconsciousness.

"I'm sorry Doc, but I have to know," I whispered, barely audible as I pulled my crippled body over her crumbled body and through the doorway, IV stand still, somehow, in tow as I crawled down the hall, fighting the pain and the tears, battling the need to buckle over and lay on the floor screaming in agony.

The evaluator was nearby and I gloried at its emptiness. I made it to my knees to hit the button that read 28 then slumped down the wall and to the floor. Sobs wracked my body.

What was I doing? I was playing a game with myself; giving myself a reason to believe she was not gone, I knew there was none. I knew she was dead.

"Than why can't I just accept it?!" I screamed to the emptiness of the elevator, a sanctuary from others telling me who was dead and who was alive; my own place to think about what could've been.

The elevator stopped at level 28. My heart and head fought on whether or not to get off or just go back to the infirmary. My head told me to go back to the infirmary, my heart told me to go forward.

My heart won. I crawled out of the elevator, hoping no one would see the suicidal Colonel dragging himself down the hall, too weak to bare his own weight, a trail of blood leaking from his wounds leaving a trickling path in his wake. Thankfully it was a quiet night, only two teams remaining off world and only two people in the control room.

I hadn't been near the gate room or even on its level since the funeral. In fact the only place on the base I had been since that day was in the clutches of the infirmary.

"I hear he's doing better," I headed Sergeant Walter say to Sergeant Siler.

Wonderful, even the sergeants in the control room were talking about me.

"Have you seen him since the memorial?" Sergeant Siler asked. I could see them both now facing away from the gate, chatting over cups of coffee.

"No I haven't and I don't know if I want to, Doctor Frasier says the old Colonel O'Neill seems all but gone. He's stuck in depression." Walter replied, sadly. I stopped moving for a moment. I swore under my breath, "I am not depressed!"

"It's sad."

That was it. No turning back. I had to know. My denial was my undoing. I somehow pulled my self up the stairs trusted IV stand still faithfully keeping me upright. I launched myself into the control room, knocking Siler out cold with my stand then before Walter could get a word out I slammed his face into the keyboard. He too was out cold.

Wincing and spitting blood at the keyboard I managed to dial the gate before slumping to the floor.

For a moment I was defeated, but I knew this was my way and now I wouldn't let anyone stop me from moving on, not even myself. I was done drowning, I was ready for air. Then I remembered I didn't have a gun. I had never made it to the armoury. Damn. Apparently I was that stupid.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. I chanted inside my head, how could I forget something so important? Sooooo stupid!

The computer screen blared warnings in red colors as the gate dialled the coordinates that would never erase from my mind. My fingers entered the symbols without instruction, it was an automatic impulse. Red lights overhead sent beams of light into my eyes blinding me momentarily and sending shooting pain from my eyes to my head. And then the alarms started. Wailing and blaring as loud as any noise I had heard, signalling the feat that I was about to achieve. My time was limited; a window had opened for seconds only. I would never get this far again if I went back for a gun and no doubt the troops were already on their way to take me back to the infirmary, the prison that had become my deathtrap, a place to wait for nothing, and to have nothing to live for.

Thud, thud, thud. The pounding in my head grew worse. The room span with dizzying nausea, the echoing of alarms just increased everything tenfold. The scent of my own blood, pooling from my leg and arm, drifted to my nostrils and I vomited right there on the floor. I couldn't think. I couldn't make any decisions that made any sense and that is why I went limping down the stairs through the corridor, into the Gateroom and through the gate without that stupid gun, leaving a path of fresh blood, marking the walk to my death or life, depending on the outcome of my impossible mission…. to find my reason for living.

As I took the step into that endless blue puddle I had only one thought in my head. Sam. My Sam. I would find her. I would find her….

**Again I am very sorry to have kept you all waiting for so long. Please Please review and make me a happy camper!**


	15. Chapter 15 A Taste of Freedom

I'm soooooo sorry my dear readers for the wait on this chapter. You guys really do deserve more updates for being such awesome readers. Thanks for the reviews. I have now officially graduated highschool, yay! However, another hip surgery is in my near future, so let's all hope I am able to update soon. Please, please, please review!

Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate SG1

Chapter 15: A Taste of Freedom

Shadows danced around my head. Torture echoed in my ears. My arms dripped with dark blood from the chain cuffs digging deep into my slim wrists. My skin reeked of dried blood and infected flesh, forcing my empty stomach into dry heaves that wracked my body for hours. I could not feel any part of my body; I was only a blob of numbness and striking pain in every which way, undefined except by stings of longing for an escape even if that meant death. I shook with every breath, fear and nightmares embedded into my waking mind and haunting the sleep that I craved with deep longing. My body suffered more wounds than any body should take, yet my mind clung to a desire that I could not understand. Surely I had suffered enough. I had lost everything. All my senses were paralyzed. My body broken and my mind damaged forever…

But in the midst of this terrible listlessness, this numbness that soaked me in nothing, as if by a gust of gentle wind a hand ran up the length of my bloodied arm. The mysterious fingertips were gentle and defined; brushing silently to the cuffs of my bonds. A quiet jingle and one arm fell, my body bending impossibly, not holding even one pound of my weight. I hung like a doll from one arm, swaying with unease and lifelessness. I had no ability to be upright, no strength to hold my famished body from the cold cell floor. My other hand was released just as quietly. My limps crumpled and I fell into a tight ball, sinking towards the hard floor for what seemed like ages. My body attempted to stop my descent but my weight was too great for the brokenness of my famished and tortured being. After what felt like eons in that slow and painful limbo, carefully and with perfect fluidity the arms that had released me caught my collapse and supported the brokenness that I had not been able to carry. The second the arms were around my body I knew who it was. It was him, my colonel; Jack. He was here.

I shook with pure joy, my mind hardly comprehending the reality of his presence. Finally I was safe and that was enough to heal everything. It was the only medicine that could free me from all my ailments. The pain evaporated. The hot, sticky taste of blood in my mouth faded. The wounds all over my body were silent. The smell of infected flesh no longer flared my nostrils and tempted my starving stomach. My heart was healed in an instant. I was okay. No, I was more then okay. I had been saved by the only person in the world who could save me in every single way. I was alive!

My whole body shook as his voice filled my ears. "You're gonna make it Sam. You're going to be alright." he whispered gently.

I looked up at him; my Colonel Jack O'Neill. I couldn't see him, but I felt like my eyes had never been more right. His figure appeared among the black shadows. It was only in my mind that the perfect details of his face were at all visible, but I didn't care. His presence was more than enough to make up for what I lacked in sight. I knew it was him who had come to save me from my greatest nightmare. I soaked in his smell and the way his body felt against mine as I clung to it like a lifeline. Every detail of him seeped into me as I gazed right where I knew his face would be. He held me bridal style_, _supporting every part of my weakened body. I mustered every bit of strength I had left and placed one single kiss on his perfect lips. It felt like everything, just everything. Every emotion, every feeling, every single thought went into that kiss - a kiss of pure need. Our lips seemed to meld together as one, the taste of his mouth was better then any food, the soothing of his touch better than any medicine. I was healed. I began to melt into unconsciousness a second later. I was alright now, I was free and I was safe in the arms of my Colonel. Finally I had everything left to live for. My head pounded more and more. This was the most movement my body had been through in days and it was draining my remaining life force. I wanted to stay awake and just soak in his profile and know that as long as he was there I would be safe, but I was slipping away even though he held me. I was at peace falling asleep in his arms; it was like coming home after a long trip. Then suddenly his arms fell away from my body, our contact broke. I was pitched into a whirling blackness. I hit something hard, not knowing what part of my body had actually made contact with the unknown object. That was it, he was gone. The taste of that quick kiss stayed on my lips as I floated away again. The ghost of him stayed in my mind even as I one again slumbered in nothingness…

Don't forget to review and make me a happy camper.


	16. Chapter 16 Prolonged Pain

**Hi everyone! I am back. I am so incredibly sorry for not updating and I know you all have probably heard it before, but I really want to finish my story. I apologize if there are errors in this chapter as I am anxious to get some more chapters posted. The next one is written just needs some revising. Should be up by tomorrow or the next day. I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Exciting things are coming in the next couple chapters as well. And please review.**

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Giving into Grief Chapter 16 Prolonged Pain

I woke in the sweet embrace of his perfect arms. They held my quivering body as the numbness of sleep slowly wore off and my conscious mind emerged again. The slow soft kiss was still on my lips. The touch of his fingers on the remains of my battered clothing was soothing. The pain was almost gone with the comfort of his presence. I was okay. I was more then okay, I was perfect and alive.

I dozed on and off after waking the first time. And with each waking I found more and more perfect comfort. I knew nothing but him. I had forgotten the pain, the hunger, the blindness. I only knew him being there. Nothing else. It was perfection. He healed me.

As the cold chill of perfect outdoor dew wore off and the feeling of mid morning set in, I woke from dozing for the last time. Jack? I whispered barely hearing my own voice. Jack? I questioned again, wanting nothing more then to hear his voice hit the drums of my ears. He stirred. I nudged him gently, only to realize I hadn't moved in hours and that small movement tempted the pain and exhaustion to return.

Thankfully, that small nudge had been enough to make him stir and finally after minutes that seemed to take forever he woke up.

I sucked in breath, waiting for his voice to save me all over again.

It didn't.

It never came.

His voice never saved me.

It wasn't his voice.

It tore me apart.

The pain crashed in on me as though a dam had been holding back water had suddenly broken, releasing its strength and wrath upon my entire body. The shock shook my body with wracking bursts of convulsions. I died all over again. The thing I had been craving, the one person who was the only one I needed had just been ripped away. I wanted, no, I needed to escape it all. I brought myself to my knees, slowly, but with determination. My frail body felt as though it might snap with the weight of all my pain and anguish, but I needed to run, finally I needed to flee away from my terrible nightmare which had just crashed tenfold.

"Sam?" The voice that was not Jack's spoke again, but it was alien to me. All my senses were backstabbing me. They all fought for superiority, but the one I needed most never won. My sight's continued absence still crippled me.

"It's me, Wiley," the voice spoke, willingly offering the identity as though it would stop my struggle. It did not. The name never registered; the voice never clicked. The pain shot through me again. Without my Jack there was nothing and nobody that could save me. I ran. I crawled. I pulled myself away. This Wiley followed behind, calling at me to stop, promising me escape. Escape? No, without Jack there was no escape.

Every inch I crawled seemed harder then the last. The soft dirt gave way beneath the palms of my hands only to be replaced with jagged, golf-ball sized gravel. My knees were now dented and bleeding from the small cuts the gravel dealt, but the pain went unnoticed. All pain was numb. It was like feeling sadness for a very long time. Eventually you forget you are feeling it, you deny it even, but the sadness is still there eating away at your soul, slowly. Pain was my sadness. I could no longer feel. I was numb to its effects. It was killing me inside and out. I would never amend my battered soul.

Fake Jack was still behind me. I could hear him. He moved slowly, but he was gaining on me. With determination I made an effort to gain some lead, I took a sharp left and suddenly the gravel disappeared, in fact all ground disappeared. I was floating, flying, gliding with grace and poise; a moment of serenity in the midst of a nightmare. And then just like a nightmare grabs a pleasant dream and rips it away, the beautiful serenity was replaced with falling, tumbling, crashing and then for the hundredth time I knew nothing but black.

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	17. Chapter 17 Beautifully Broken

**And here it is! The chapter you have all been waiting for...**

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Giving into Grief Chapter 17 Beautifully Broken

I was always a stubborn bastard. Never did want to do what anyone told me. Was never a smart one either except for when I wasn't trying to be. I was always a smart-ass though and could never seem to find an off button for it. I was always able to do the completely wrong thing and still get away with it, even as a child. I was an early bloomer in the area of deception and sarcasm, maybe that's where my life went so wrong...

It was only in moments of pure stupidity that I felt the need to reflect on my personal flaws. This was one of those moments...

I pictured what I must look like: blood dripping from my lame leg, stitches once again torn, limping forward at a horribly slow pace, injured arm pulled close to my chest, completely unbalance and flailing anywhere. Pathetic bastard! You pathetic bastard! I didn't know where I was heading. I didn't know what direction I came from, but I had my purpose and I would not stop until that purpose no longer stood or my body failed me; whichever came first.

Sam; I could no longer picture her face, the grief had taken that away. She was fading away and I found my mind starting to panic.

I stumbled for miles and miles looking, searching and willing to find her. Aimlessly wondering with no direction, hoping by some miracle I would somehow stumble across a sign; anything that would clue me whether all was truth or lie.

And then I saw it: the barely visible colour of peridot BDUs. Sam! My heart jumped. My throat suddenly had a huge lump. My stomach churned. This was it! I found her! I found her!

I mustered up the energy and swallowed hard as I began a brisker limp towards the motionless figure crumpled on the ground. As I neared I noticed the ripped and bloodstain remains of the BDU pants. I vomited. The smell of days of layered dried blood and slight infection hung in the air. My breath left me. Was this my Sam? Was I too late? Was I about to face my worse fear? Was I about to meet the outcome of my worst nightmares?

Breathing through my mouth and ignoring the pain rippling down my lower half, I gently grasped the shoulders of the lifeless figure and slowly exposed their face. My heart skipped a beat. It wasn't her. I didn't know if I was relieved or horrified. I checked the pulse of the young shoulder. He was alive, I half wished he was Sam; at least I would've known she was alive.

I gently tapped the captain's cheeks, willing him to wake up. If there was any chance he could tell me where she was I needed to know before I passed out from blood loss... again.

I checked his dog tags. Wiley. Captain Wiley.

"Wiley, wake up!" I called out hoarsely. The captain didn't stir. "Dammit Wiley, where is she, where is my Sam?" I screamed as loud as humanly possible, throwing my hands in the air with wild and raging force. "Dammit! Dammit! Dammit! Where are you Sam!?"

And then there was silence. I stayed still kneeling in the dying grass next to Wiley's barely breathing body. There was nothing but silence around me.  
And then I heard it: the smallest, faintest groan. It was as if a bird was whispering.

I listened. Minutes passed. I still listened and just when I was dismissing it as my mind going crazy I heard it again.

I began to crawl in the direction of the noise, praying, hoping, and believing that it was her and that she was still alive. After about three feet the ground disappeared and gave way to a cliff like rock ledge and beneath the initial slope there she was in a pile of ripped BDUs, blood all over her frail body, every inch of visible skin discolored with red stains and dirt, one arm bent beneath her body the other resting above her head, face straight down against the jagged rocks and blonde hair a mess of dried blood and sweat. There she was, my Sam. My beautiful Sam... my beautiful broken Sam.

I couldn't breathe. I couldn't see her breathing. I couldn't tell if her chest was moving. _Oh my Sam..._

I could not speak a word. I couldn't call to her. Tears dripped down my face as I attempted my decent to her body. Fear left me shaking. Looking at her made my eyes blur even more with tears.

The climb to her seemed to take years! Every inch left a stabbing pain in my heart. Every breathe I took reminded me that I couldn't see her breathing. It was the most agonizing few minutes of my entire life.

My hands shook as they got close to her bare arms. The ripped sleeves of her once combat uniform no longer served a purpose; her left sleeve no where to be seen and her right in shreds hanging along her biceps. When my fingers first touched her neck, convulses traveled from my finger tips all the way through my body, shocking every single neuron.

I felt for a pulse as the tears dripped down my nose, spotting Sam's back with perfect circles of fearful  
droplets. Her pulse barely registered beneath my fingertips, but nonetheless it was still there. I gently, but firmly supported her head and flipped her over, tears still falling.

Her face was barely recognizable yet she was still my Sam."Sam?" I whispered, brushing the dirt off her left cheek, while noting the blood poring from her head. This was bad. She was very, very bad. She needed immediate medical care. That was something I hadn't considered, and now I was kicking myself. I hadn't even brought a field dressing. "Stupid bastard," I swore under my breath. I ripped at my pants collecting a dirty makeshift bandage. I looked at it unappealingly, but at least it would help steam the flow from her head. I pressed it firmly to her wounded temple.

I was scared. Scare of actually losing her; scared of actually being there to see it happen; scared of my worst nightmare. "Come on Sam; wake up, for me, please! Please Sam! I need you!" I could here the desperation in my own voice. "Please..."

The tears were endless and they dripped onto her face streaming the dirt into miniature mudslides. Beautiful. Even now she was beautiful. I stroked her hair and leaned to whisper in her ear. "I love you Sam, you need to wake up, for me." I rocked back and forth hugging her body close to mine, sobbing with uncontrollable force. "Please Sam I need you. I never understood grief until I lost you.'

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